


Bits and Bones

by death_frisbee



Series: Reset [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of feelsy type stuff, Gen, One-Shots, miscellaneous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8896180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/death_frisbee/pseuds/death_frisbee
Summary: A series of small stories attached to a few different skeletons. Some are a few chapters, some are one-shots.A companion compilation to "Reset," meant to add a few explanations, flesh out some details, and play with some post-Pacifist-Ending ideas.





	1. Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> A few disclaimers:
> 
> Everything that takes place after Undertale is entirely my own headcanon. I love Undertale's open ending, and I want to maintain that same openness in my fanwork, as well.
> 
> Also, if there's anything you've been DYING to see written about, leave a comment and I can write about it!

                There was something really great in being a sentry in Snowdin during Christmastime. The kids coming up to see Santa, the lights, the big tree in the middle of the square—sure, everything except Santa was there year-round, but the energy and excitement made it much more _fun._

                Papyrus had been taking his job even more seriously than usual, determined to protect the festivities from any and all threats. It resulted in a lot of running at non-existent enemies, then coming back to insist that _obviously_ he had frightened off any ne’er-do-wells. Sans always agreed. After all, who was he to ruin his brother’s fun? And it wasn’t like _he_ was the one running.

                Christmas Eve came, and, as to be expected, Asgore gave his guards and sentries the okay to head home early. Since they were in Snowdin, Sans and Papyrus also got their tree on the house. They were carrying it back to their place in the Core while Papyrus laid out the plan for the rest of the day.

                “So we’ll sing carols until three, then _obviously_ visit Santa—”

                “You could’ve visited all week,” Sans pointed out, trying to keep needles from hitting his socket. Papyrus looked over his shoulder, giving Sans a horrified look.

                “I was _on-duty_ , Sans!”

                “And?”

                “And that’s breaking the rules! That gets you on the _naughty_ list!” Papyrus huffed. “Honestly, if I didn’t vouch for you every year, you’d _never_ get any presents.”

                “You’re right, Pap. I’d really be in trouble without your _presents_ of mind. I’m really lucky that _yule log_ all my good deeds to Santa, or I’d be without _Clause_ to cel--”

                _“SANS, I WILL PUT YOU ON THE NAUGHTY LIST MYSELF.”_

                Sans laughed as they entered Hotland, then slowed as they approached the Lab. He’d followed Gaster’s instructions and hadn’t contacted him since he’d told him the research was over. But…well, what did he do for Christmas? Was he just…alone?

                “Hey, Pap?”

                “If it’s another pun, I’m not listening.”

                “Nah, not now. Listen, how attached are you to our usual schedule?”

                Papyrus stopped walking and looked back at Sans, browbone furrowed. “Why?”

                Sans winked. “I think it’s about time we changed things up. Wait here, bro.”

                “Sans, what--?” Papyrus huffed as Sans teleported away. “Why does he always _do_ that?”

~

                The lab was quiet, as it often was now. Gaster had told Alphys to go home earlier; she’d talked about _nothing_ but what gift she’d gotten Undyne and how she hoped she liked them, so he finally told her to just go and give it to her. (Apparently it was a replica of a very large sword. From the little he knew of the Captain of the Guard, Gaster assumed she would like it immensely.)

                For himself, a quiet night in the lab was a fine way to spend Christmas Eve. He had some notes to go over regarding his and Alphys’ new project—he’d have to tell Sans about it once they were sure the machine _could_ work—and had just sat down with a mug of tea when he heard the door open. He smiled.

                “Alphys, you did not need to come back,” he called. His browbone furrowed as he heard a strange rustling in reply. “Alphys?”

                “Well, uh, not quite.”

                Gaster blinked, and he quickly got to his feet as a smile spread across his skull. “Sans?” His smile widened as he saw a taller skeleton enter with a huge box of decorations. “And Papyrus! And…a tree,” he added as a tree surrounded by blue light floated into the room, followed by Sans. “What on earth are you all doing here?”

                “As sentries and defenders of Christmas, it was our duty to bring joy to those even outside of our patrol boundaries,” Papyrus said grandly as he set the box down and grabbed a hold of the tree. He nearly fell backwards as Sans released it. Gaster held back a laugh.

                “Well, you are certainly doing your duty,” he said, giving Papyrus a solemn nod before walking over to help him. “Now, we could set this in the middle of the lab. Do you need help, Papyrus?”

                “Of course not! I’m training to be in the Royal Guard,” Papyrus said, then heaved the tree up and assured in a strained voice, “This is nothing,” as he made his way to the middle of the lab.

                Gaster smiled, then looked over at Sans. _So why are you really here?_ he signed.

                Sans winked. _To bring happy, obviously_ , he signed back before picking up the box of decorations and carrying it to the tree, where Papyrus was trying to subtly catch his breath. He looked up at Gaster, then set the box down and signed, _Do you want us go?_

                Gaster chuckled and shook his head. He looked at the tree as Papyrus got it to stand up straight. “You know, it has been a long time since I have had a Christmas tree.”

                “Really?” Sans asked as he worked at untangling the lights. “What do you usually do?”

                Gaster shrugged, leaning down to pick up a bright red ornament. “Oh, nothing exciting. I will go and visit Asgore for the evening.” He hung the ornament on a branch with a smile. “Let me find a, er, plug for the li—”

                “The _King_?” Papyrus interrupted. “You have Christmas with the _King?_ ”

                Gaster blinked. “Er, well, yes. We usually have tea and chat while he knits.”

                “The King _knits?”_

                Gaster chuckled and pulled at the collar of his sweater. “Here is the proof.”

                “ _Wowie_ ,” Papyrus said breathlessly, sockets starry.

                Sans looked up at Gaster in (much quieter) surprise. Huh. Obviously he knew that Gaster and Asgore talked to each other, but he never thought they were actually _friends._

                “Imagine,” Papyrus said wonderingly as he started stringing the (still tangled) lights, “Christmas with _King Asgore._ ”

                At the same moment, Gaster and Sans looked at each other, the same idea hitting them both. Of _course_. Asgore should be invited over. It’d be the perfect Christmas gift! Gaster opened his mouth, but Sans was quicker.

                “Y’know who we should ask about that? _Santa._ ”

                Papyrus gasped. “You think he knows the king?”

                “Oh, definitely.”

                “Then _why are we still here?_ ” Papyrus asked incredulously. “We might not have enough time!” He snapped his fingers. “Can we take a shortcut?”

                “Not three of us.”

                Gaster waved a hand. “Go along. I do not mind waiting.”

                Sans shook his head. “No way, Gaster. I bet it’s been _ages_ since you’ve asked Santa for anything. You need to come along and see if he even remembers you.”

                As Gaster gave Sans an amused look, Papyrus—already going to the door—turned around worriedly. “ _Can_ Santa forget people?”

                “You don’t need to worry, Pap.” Sans winked. “After all, you guys exchange letters three times a year.”

                Papyrus relaxed. Gaster looked at Sans curiously. “ _Three_ times?”

                “Sure. One to ask for presents, one to thank him, and then he likes to check in during summer, to make sure Santa’s doing all right. Hey, Pap, rem—” Sans trailed off as the door opened and Papyrus was already a figure in the distance. “Aaand he’s off.”

                Gaster chuckled, nodding for them to follow him (though at a much slower pace.) “You know, he is a bit like myself when I was much younger. I used to be able to run from Home—er, The Ruins—to the Lab in just over fifteen minutes.”

                “Because you wanted to see Santa?”

                “Because I was running late.”

                Sans laughed. “ _You_ ran late? Come on, Gaster, even I make it to my job on time.”

                “Yes, well, not all of us can…what is the term you used? _Teleport._ ”

                Sans lifted his cheekbones. “Well, since you mentioned it…” he said, then teleported about 10 feet ahead. Gaster laughed and picked up his pace.

                “You are a _show-off_ , Sans.”

                “Me? Show-off? _Never_ ,” Sans assured, then teleported forward again. This time, once Gaster caught up, Sans stuck his hands in his pockets. “So, uh, what did skeletons do for Christmas? Back on the surface, I mean.”

                “We did not celebrate it.”

                “What? _Really?_ ”

                Gaster nodded. “Neither did monsters.” His hands fluttered. “The human, the one the king and queen took in, it…er, they insisted we celebrate it down here.” He let out a breath. “Much as I dislike humans, this _did_ raise spirits even after the children died. So perhaps they are good for that.” He half-smiled. “And anyway, monsters will look for any reason to celebrate.” He looked down at Sans curiously. “Did your parents do anything for Christmas?”

                Sans shrugged. “Well, yeah, but, uh, now that I think about it, I don’t think they really knew what the deal was,” he said with a little laugh. “But, y’know, they didn’t want us feeling like we were missing out on anything. But my, uh, my dad always made the _best_ hot chocolate.  I have no idea what he put in it—I try to make it every year, but it never tastes the same.”

                Gaster looked down at the smaller skeleton for a moment, then asked, “And what do you and Papyrus do now?”

                Sans winked. “Barge into unsuspecting scientists’ houses, obviously.” He chuckled. “Normally, it’s Papyrus singing for hours before we call it a night. I get the presents downstairs—that’ll be a cinch this year—and we have breakfast before watching whatever it is Mettaton puts out for Christmas.” His cheekbones lifted. “Not exciting, but hey, it makes my brother happy, and that makes me happy.”

                Gaster gave Sans a small, warm smile. “Then that sounds quite exciting.”

                The crunch of snow signaled their entrance into Snowdin. Gaster looked around with a smile, hands clasped behind his back.

                “I will say, Snowdin does seem more festive. I suppose that is why I enjoy this time of year so much,” he said as they walked into town.

                In the center of town, Asgore was seated by the tree. His beard and hair had been powdered white, and he wore a red suit and hat. Papyrus, long legs carefully angled to ensure maximum lap room, was already chatting with him. Gaster glanced down at Sans.

                “Have you thought that perhaps it is time to tell him that Santa is just Asgore in a costume?” he whispered.

                “If _you_ can do it and keep your heart in one piece, be my guest.”

                “Hm, fair point.”

                Papyrus saw them approach and waved, immediately launching himself off of Asgore’s lap. Sans nudged the scientist.

                “Go on, Gaster, it’s your turn,” he said with a wink.

                Gaster stared down at him. Sans nodded toward Asgore. After a moment, Gaster relented with a laugh. He walked over to Asgore, who seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh. Gaster was not nearly as successful. After a moment, he composed himself and leaned over slightly.

                “Hello, Santa. I w—”

                “No, you can’t ask like that!” Papyrus called from the sidelines. “You have to sit on his lap!”

                “He’s right, Gaster,” Sans added, “you absolutely gotta sit on his lap.”

                Gaster sent them an odd look over his shoulder; both brothers gave him a thumbs-up in reply. The scientist shook his head with a little laugh, then carefully maneuvered—his legs were longer than Papyrus’, after all—to set himself down on Asgore’s lap. He met the King’s gaze very seriously.

                “ _Santa_ ,” he greeted.

                They stared at each other for a moment. Then, at the same moment, their composure broke and they burst out laughing.

                After a solid minute of laughing, Asgore contained himself enough to ask, in his best Santa voice, “Ah, W.D. Gaster! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. What would _you_ like for Christmas?”

                Gaster fought off another laugh. “Well, _Santa,_ what I would like more than anything is for King Asgore Dreemurr to come spend Christmas Eve with me and these two fine young men…” He gestured to Sans and Papyrus. “…at the lab.”

                Asgore grinned. “Well, I think I might be able to pull that off.”

                Gaster grinned. “Perfect. And, er, one more thing.” He glanced over at the brothers, then turned to Asgore and lowered his voice. “Can you still make your hot chocolate? The one you used to make for your children?”

                A little flicker crossed Asgore’s face, but he nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

                “Well…I think that would be an excellent surprise as well, if it is not too much trouble.”

                Asgore tapped his snout with a wink, then gave Gaster a hearty pat on the back (which nearly catapulted him into the snow) with a loud, “Ho ho ho!”

                “Well, the King isn’t going to invite himself,” Asgore said. “I’d better go run by New Home and see if he’s home.” Once Gaster got to his feet, he shook the skeleton’s mangled hand with a grin. “Now, don’t be a stranger next time, W.D.”

                Gaster merely laughed and shook his head, then returned to Sans and Papyrus. Papyrus looked as though he might explode from excitement.

                “Did it work? Is the king coming?” he asked.

                “Oh, of course,” Gaster assured. He motioned for them to start walking. “I have been around for a long, long time, and Santa has not disappointed me yet.”

~

                “Gaster, this isn’t going to work.”

                “I think I know how to use a Bunsen burner, Sans.”

                “But for _popcorn?_ ”

                “It is no different than a stove. Well, in principle, that is.”

                “Oh my god, is this how you _cook?”_

                “Nonsense. Cooking takes too long. It _is_ how I heat my tea, though.”

                Since coming back from their visit with “Santa,” all three skeletons had been busy decorating the lab. The tree, while not necessarily _pretty_ , was very decorated, and Papyrus was aggressively caroling as he strung tinsel over the equipment and whiteboards. Gaster, meanwhile, had thought it would be a good idea to string some popcorn to add to the decorations.

                But all they had was Alphys’ microwave popcorn. And the microwave, for reasons Gaster wouldn’t say, was currently broken. So Gaster improvised; he poured the kernels into a cylinder, held it over the burner, and hoped for the best.

                Sans was beginning to see how the scientist wound up with so many cracks.

                A knock at the door gave him a good excuse to get away from the potential hazard. It slid open with a hiss, and Asgore, holding a bag and wearing a big smile, was standing just outside.

                “Hey, Asgore. You’re just in time to watch Gaster crack his skull again.”

                “This is perfectly under my control, Sans!” he called, giving the cylinder a little shake.

                Asgore chuckled. “This is why I tend to make the tea when he visits,” he said as he walked in. Immediately, Papyrus’ head shot up over a whiteboard.

                “Santa DID IT!” he exclaimed, scrambling over to the King’s side. He bowed so hard he nearly fell over. “On behalf of the Snowdin sentries, I would like to say Mer—”

                He was cut off as a loud popping filled the room. Gaster was dodging red-hot kernels of popcorn as they shot out like bullets, trying his best not to drop the cylinder in the process. Papyrus quickly spread out his arms to (barely) cover Asgore.

                “Don’t worry, Your Highness! I’ll protect you!” Papyrus called as popcorn flew across the lab. Sans came back from the door just in time to be hit square between the sockets with an unpopped kernel. He immediately fell backwards to the floor.

                “ _Sans!_ ” both Gaster and Papyrus called. In a moment, Papyrus was at his brother’s side.

                “Are you badly hurt, brother?” he asked urgently, lifting Sans’ shoulder’s slightl. Sans lifted a shaking hand.

                “P-Papyrus…”

                “Yes, brother?”

                “I…I just want you to know…”

                “ _Yes?!_ ”

                “Even…even if you thought my jokes were _corny_ , I couldn’t ask for a _butter_ brother.”

                Papyrus stared at Sans as the other skeleton started to laugh, then abruptly dropped him onto the floor and stood up.

                “Aw, come on, that was a good one, _Pop_ yrus.”

                “DO NOT SLANDER MY NAME WITH YOUR PUNS.”

                As the brothers continued their usual fight, Asgore walked over to Gaster and pat his arm.

                “How about I take care of anything cooking-related?” he said with a smile. Gaster looked up at him, then shook his head.

                “My innovativeness is unappreciated,” he said, then nodded toward the stairs. “The kettle is up there. I suspect it will be easier for you to use than graduated cylinders and Bunsen burners.”

~

                Once the popcorn was cleaned up, the night was quite nice and cozy. Papyrus was having the time of his life hearing Asgore’s stories of fighting in the War and training Undyne. Sans and Gaster, on the other _hand_ , were signing nearly exclusively—Sans still wasn’t _great_ with the grammar, but considering Gaster’s bright expression the entire time, he didn’t think the scientist minded.

                But, of course, he was still prone to nodding off, especially after such an exciting day. Just as his head started to bob, a warm mug was set into his hand. He looked up in surprise at Asgore, who smiled.

                “I have it on good authority that you and your brother have hot cocoa every year,” he said quietly. “I hope you don’t mind if I made it for you this year.”

                Sans’ cheekbones lifted. “I’d have to be _royally_ petty for that.”

                He took a sip, and his sockets widened. It wasn’t like his dad’s, but it was still _good._ Amazingly good. He looked up at Asgore, cheekbone’s lifting again.

                “Don’t suppose you could just pay me in this?” he asked quietly, lifting his mug. Asgore chuckled.

                “I could, but then it wouldn’t be special, would it?” he said, then winked. “And most shops don’t accept hot chocolate as currency.”

                “The _king_ threw a snowball at you, Dr. Gaster?” Papyrus exclaimed, directing their attention over to the other two.

                “He did. We had barely spoken, and he outright assaulted me during our expedition,” Gaster said with a nod.

                “Now hold on, Gaster, that’s not how it went,” Asgore said.

                “Oh? Perhaps my brain is too muddled from a snowball hitting my occipital bone to remember properly.”

                “You’re being a difficult old man is what’s happening.” Asgore leaned forward. “Now, listen, Papyrus, here’s what _really_ happened on our expedition…”

                As they told the story—each interrupting each other—to a starry-socketed Papyrus, Sans settled down in his seat as he sipped his hot cocoa. A warmth that was not entirely from the hot drink filled his chest. This, he thought, was what he had missed for the past several Christmases.

~

                “And do you remember, when I told you to give a speech for the University’s first graduation?”

                “Oh, _god_. It was hideous. Alphys, I think, has found a video of it. She keeps threatening to put it on, er, Undernet is what she calls it, I think.”

                “Oh, she wouldn’t.”

                “No, but I think she likes having that sort of power over me.”

                “Well, surely one of these boys would know. Say, would either of you—” Asgore looked up to the brothers, and he smiled a bit. On the old sofa in the corner, both of them were fast asleep. “It looks like we’ve worn them out, Gaster.”

                Gaster looked up at them, and he smiled a bit. “Well, they were quite busy bringing joy. I am not surprised they are tired.” He got up and lightly tapped on Papyrus’ shoulder.

                Immediately, he jolted awake. “What is it? Is there a _human_?”

                Gaster chuckled. “No, no, we are quite safe. But it is getting late, and I am certain Santa will be coming soon.”

                Papyrus jumped to his feet. “You’re right! Sans! We need to get back home!”

                Sans mumbled in reply, sinking lower into the couch. Papyrus huffed.

                “How are you always so _lazy_?” he asked. He pulled up his brother and slung him on his back. “We’re going home, Sans! We need to be ready for _Santa!_ ”

                “Hmmmmokay,” Sans mumbled, not fully waking up.

                Papyrus shook his head. “It is a _very_ good thing I vouch for you to Santa.” He turned back to look at Gaster and Asgore. “Merry Christmas, Dr. Gaster! And a _very_ Merry Christmas to you, Your Majesty.” He gave Asgore a deep bow that nearly catapulted Sans off of his back (not that Sans noticed), then turned and quickly exited the lab.

                Gaster smiled, then turned to Asgore. “And you? Do you need to go home to wait for Santa?”

                Asgore chuckled. “I think I have time enough for one more cup of tea.” He got up and carefully picked up an Erlenmeyer flask that had been gently warming the tea over a burner to fill his and Gaster’s mugs. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

                “The tea? Of course it is; you were meant to be a tea maker.”

                Asgore chuckled as he poured the tea. “No, I mean spending Christmas with family.”

                Gaster sent Asgore a dubious look. “You know better than anyone that I am not related to them.”

                “You don’t have to be related to be family,” Asgore corrected gently as he handed Gaster his mug.

                Gaster blinked, then looked down at his tea. He smiled a bit and shook his head. “I do not quite agree with you,” he said after a moment, but he smiled wider as he took a sip of tea. “But…I do think this was the best Christmas I have ever had.”

               


	2. Guilty Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A silly little one-shot about one of Gaster's guilty pleasures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at work, so forgive me if it's not quite coherent.

 

The Core's tubes were backing up again.

Gaster sighed as he looked over the notes from the last inspection. As if he didn't have enough to worry about with the souls. Of course, he'd known about the issue for a while now—you couldn't be the Royal Scientist and not know the status of your greatest work—but he'd _hoped_ that one of the maintenance workers would have been able to take care of it.

He rubbed his temples with a sigh. If he didn't have the scars to remind him, he _definitely_ would have hired an assistant by now.

But there was no time for that. He needed a quick fix for this problem. And that meant...going to the dump.

He _hated_ going there. The thought of monsters having to subside on the humans' scraps to advance made his marrow boil. But, at times, it was the only option. They just had so much more at their disposal, so in times like this, it was a necessary evil.

So, setting aside his work on the soul containers and swallowing his pride, he made his way to Waterfall. Luckily, the odd hours he worked meant that there was rarely anyone else there, which meant he didn't have to endure the inevitable _"Are you the Royal Scientist?" "Yes." "You built the Core?" "Yes." "I didn't think you ever came out!" "Well, I do on occasion." "I've never seen a skeleton before!"_ and so on.

So, shoes and socks off, trousers rolled, he set to searching, looking around at his leisure. An engine would be just what he needed...it'd save him loads of time constructing the vacuum he was planning to stop the blockage. Of course, that wasn't likely, but if he could find enough parts...

Oh, hello. What was this?

He stopped and looked over the large wooden box. It had a hole in the side, and a heavy lid locked shut.

How strange.

He picked it up with a small frown, finding it quite heavy. Something must be inside. Surely nothing too valuable...but, then again, humans didn't care much for value, did they? He carried it over to dry land, examining it. The hole, based on a possibly-unwise decision to stick his fingers in, had metal parts inside—oh, for a crank. But why would a box need a crank? Humans were strange.

The lock was tough, but between the rust and a hard strike with a rock, it popped right off. He opened the box.

_Oh._

It was...some kind of machine, with a series of black disks underneath. Everything was a bit wet, but that was an easy fix. Now came the problem of what it _did._

He set out to find the crank. Then, plans for fixing the Core completely forgotten, he gathered up his new find and went back to the lab.

~

It took the rest of the night and a good chunk of the morning, but he managed to disassemble and reassemble the machine, cleaning out the rust and mud. Once it was all put together, he sat and simply stared at it. For all of his work restoring it, he still didn't know what it _did_. Was it a weapon? The sharpest thing it had was a needle, but that faced down and didn't seem to be a projectile.

Well. There was just one way to find out what it did.

He took a deep breath, then stuck in the crank and wound it up. He paused for a moment, praying that he wouldn't end up blowing up the lab. He gritted his teeth and tensed as he pulled out the crank...

...and nothing happened.

He stared. The box was whirring, but nothing was happening. So what was this _for_?

Humans were strange and cruel, but they didn't make things that were _useless_.

He signed a few frustrated words at the box, then sat back with a huff. All that time spent for _nothing._ Just a stupid box that whirred. His gaze shifted over to the black discs. He picked one up to look it over; the words were faded from the water, but the actual disc was still intact, if a bit scratched. He looked closer at it. They were very thin scratches, as if they had been done by...

Oh, he was an _idiot_.

The disc was just the right size for the little circle in the middle of the machine. He set it down onto it, and he smiled a bit as it started to turn. Now, if he was right about those needle scratches, he just had to move the arm with the needle onto...

He nearly hit the roof as music came from the box. Trumpets and saxophones came bursting from the little box, like a whole orchestra was inside of it. He took the arm away from the disc, and it stopped. He put it back, and there was the music again.

Despite himself, he smiled. How exciting!

He took the needle on and off a few more times, then took off the disc and put on a new one. This disc was a little wobbly, so the flutes and violins on were equally wobbly. The sound was dependent on the discs then. But how?

Another disc. This one was a high, wavery voice—the disc was fine, the voice was not. He abruptly took that one off and replaced it with the first one.

Well, humans may be cruel, but even he had to admit this disc player was charming. Perhaps he could make some improvements and give it to Asgore. 

He took the needle off and shut the box. He'd play with this later. For now, he really ought to work on fixing the back-up at the Core.

~

For the first time in quite a while, Gaster was aware of how... _quiet_ the lab was. It always had been, of course; mostly, it was just him, and he usually liked the quiet. But now it was...a little _too_ quiet.

He paused in his work and tapped his fingers together. He couldn't stop and go out, not now. But...he needed _some_ sort of noise.

His gaze drifted over to the player in the corner. 

No, it was a human thing. He had his limits, and using anything from humans was far past that.

But...well. It _was_ a little fun. 

He stood up and made his way to the box, lightly brushing his fingertips against it.

No. There was plenty of Monster music. He would make his own record player and listen to that.

But this one was _here._ And he did like all the saxophones and clarinets in that one record.

And...it wasn't like anyone had to know.

So, with a small smile, he allowed himself to turn the crank again and put on the record before returning to his work. 

As his foot idly tapped in time with the music, he reminded himself that it was just this once he would let himself give in.

~

For the life of her, Alphys couldn't understand _why_ Gaster used a record player for his music. There were so many more options now! Tapes and CDs and even _phones_ were much better than the beat-up record he played over and over. Once, she even offered to re-fit the record player to be a normal stereo. 

Given the look Gaster had given her, she was still pretty sure this suggestion nearly got her fired.

It wasn't until the record--which was already on its last legs by the time she started--was scratched beyond repair that she understood. DT work forgotten, Gaster had spent nearly the entire day trying to buff out any scratches. But, as the day drew on, he finally had no choice but to give up. Over her welding, she watched him sigh and drop the record into the garbage.

"I-if you want, I could try to fix it," she offered as she pushed up her mask. He shook his head.

"No, no. It is all right," he said. "It was just a...er, guilty pleasure, I think is the term." As he sat back at his desk, he waved vaguely toward the record player. "If you would like to use it, go ahead. Perhaps you can find something interesting to do with it." 

Oh, _of course!_ She was an idiot. As someone with multiple guilty pleasures, she should have recognized this off the bat. She puffed out her cheeks, a plan forming in her head.

"Um...well, I'll think about it," she said before pulling her mask back down.

~

He would never know how much wax was thrown out over the next few months, or that transferring music from digital files into grooves on a disc was _ridiculously_ hard. He wouldn't know how much Alphys had anguished over what kind of music her boss would like.

But, just a few days before Christmas, Gaster was surprised as he saw a stack of new, clean records waiting by the record player, along with a little note:

_we all have guilty pleasures. Enjoy! :) -A_

So, making a mental note to thank Alphys profusely when she came into work, Gaster set the first record on the player and turned the crank. As drums and clarinets and saxophones and trumpets filled the lab,  he returned to his work, foot tapping as he let himself enjoy his guilty pleasure.


	3. The Scientifically-Proven Best Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphys tries to plan a date with Undyne. She forgets that she's friends with idiots. (A fluffy little Alphyne one-shot)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next three chapters are actually a few quick one-shots I wrote for contest winners at Wattpad. Since I'll continue being MIA for the next few days, I figured I'd upload them for people to read over while I'm gone. Like I said, they were written fast, so please excuse any writing errors; I'll fix them when I get home in a few days.

Alphys looked over her notes again, a little proud of herself. She had just devised the date that was, scientifically, be the best possible with Undyne.

Well, okay, the _hypothetical_ best possible date with Undyne, since it hadn't been tested yet. And even then, it would be _theoretically_ the best possible date until several exact repetitions had been carried out with the same results.

But! She had enough evidence to prove that Undyne would love it!

...she hoped.

No, it _had_ to be the best. She had to be confident! Now all she had to do was...actually ask Undyne out.

~

As usual, she found Undyne in full training mode, currently doing pull-ups.

Since magic levels were much lower on the Surface, the former Captain of the Guard had needed to double her regiment to make sure she remained _the strongest._  Not that she minded the extra-work; her backyard was practically a boot camp obstacle course, and she was nearly always pushing herself through it.

She seemed happy to work so hard, though, so Alphys didn't see any harm. The only thing she didn't like was how sweaty she got whenever she saw her girlfriend's even-larger biceps.

Alphys let herself in through the gate. Undyne caught sight of her, and she pulled herself up to rest her arms on top of the bar, making it look as easy as leaning against a wall. She flashed her signature toothy grin.

"Hey, Alphys."

"H-hey, Undyne." Already, she felt her scales getting clammy. This was ridiculous. They'd been dating for _months._ "U-uh...uh, so, uh...y'know, I'd r-really like if we could...go...out?"

Undyne stared down at her for a moment, then let out a " _Pfft!_ " before she swung down. "Alphys, ya _nerd._ Of course I wanna go out with you." She laughed as she walked over. "I'd be annoyed if you didn't look so cute when you're surprised."

Alphys went bright red at that, but regardless, she smiled. "G-great! I-I mean, I know you l-l-l- _like_ me, but I-I was afraid you might be busy." She tapped her claws together. "B-but I was thinking...maybe we could go t-to the museum?" As Undyne's expression immediately shifted to disgust, she quickly added, "There's, there's an exhibit o-on ancient swords and armor! A-And I know y--"

"SWORDS AND ARMOR?"

The shout came from inside Undyne's house. All at once, a window shattered as Papyrus launched himself through it. (He stuck the landing.)

Alphys blinked. "W-where did you come from?"

"The house, obviously!" Papyrus said brightly. "I let myself in, and then I heard 'swords and armor' and I needed to be outside."

"B-but...but why were you in the house?"

"Oh, that's easier. Undyne and I always hang out on Thursdays!"

"O-oh." That threw a wrench in her plans. "I-I didn't realize..."

"I, the Great Papyrus, am fully in favor of changing the plans to visiting the museum! And you can join us, Dr. Alphys."

Undyne frowned, draping an arm over Alphys. "Uh, Papyrus, Alphys and I are actually..."

"N-no! It's fine! I-I don't want to mess up your routine!" Alphys quickly assured. Undyne arched an eyebrow at her.

"You sure?"

"Y-yeah! We'll all go together! It'll be great!"

~

They were kicked out of the museum twenty minutes later. Alphys had forgotten that things were prone to breaking when Undyne and Papyrus were together. And, while nothing had _broken_ , exactly, toppling 20 suits of armor like dominoes wasn't exactly _smiled upon._

So Alphys was mildly freaking out. Both over potentially losing her museum membership and over the date.

But! She had to stay confident! After all, there was a part two to the date!

"Uh, so...well, I'd planned for that to take longer. B-but I found a new anime," she announced. "W-we could watch it back at my place!"

Undyne, holding Papyrus in a headlock, stopped mid-noogie to look up at her with a grin. "With princesses?"

Alphys smiled and nodded. "And swords."

Much to Papyrus' relief, Undyne let him go to do a fist pump. " _Awesome._ "

Papyrus rubbed his top two vertebrae with a frown. "Well, count me out. I don't like anime."

Undyne frowned. "I swear, if you say it's for babies..."

"It's not that! I don't like _false advertising_ in my TV shows." He crossed his arms with a huff. "Bishounen eyes are a _completely_ unrealistic beauty standard."

"I'm pretty sure your issue is that you don't have eyes," Undyne pointed out.

"Even so! I am _not_ lowering my standards for realistic anime eyes! So, while I can feel your grief at seeing me go, the Great Papyrus must journey elsewhere!"

And with that, Papyrus sprinted off to...well, Alphys wasn't exactly sure where. But definitely _away._

"Aw, now we can't have a pillow fight with the entire couch," Undyne said, snapping her fingers. But she smiled down at Alphys. "Guess it's just you and me now."

Alphys returned the smile and resisted letting out a sigh of relief. "Y-yeah. Guess so."

Now they could really start their date.  _Finally._

~

Or...maybe not.

As they approached Alphys' house, she noticed someone standing on her porch.

Oh god.

_Sans._

Why was he even here? Oh, god, Undyne couldn't see him. She _hated_ him. She had to get him away somehow. Abruptly, Alphys grabbed Undyne's arm and turned her around.

"H-hey! You know what'd go great with anime? _Noodles._ "

"Wh--?" Before Undyne could ask what was happening, Alphys dug in her pocket and shoved a few pieces of gold into her hand.

"Th-that should be enough! Y-you know where the store is! Thanks, Undyne!" 

"Uh...no problem?" Undyne shot her girlfriend a weird look, but started walking down the street all the same. Once she had turned the corner, Alphys immediately ran up to Sans. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Sans nodded to the door. "Waiting for you to unlock the door."

"N-no! I-I mean, _why_ are you _here_?"

Sans blinked, and he set a hand over his sternum, sockets wide. "Alph, I'm hurt. Have you _forgotten_ about our movie night?"

Oh, god. She had. She anxiously tapped her claws together, glancing back down the street. "Can we...reschedule? It's just...well, _Undyne_ is..."

Sans' cheekbones lifted. With his permanent grin, it was hard to tell what that meant. "Oh, I see. You're pushing your friend aside in favor of your _gill_ friend. I have to say, Alphys, I'm a little of- _fin-_ ded that you think so poorly of our friendship."

Alphys let out a little whine of frustration. She _knew_ that Sans was _probably_ messing with her, and he would be totally fine if she told him she was on a date. But what if he _wasn't?_ She didn't have many friends, she couldn't afford to alienate any of them!

"Ffffffffine!" she finally exclaimed. "B-but just... _please_ , Sans, for the love of _god_ , don't do anything to antagonize her. _Please._ "

Sans winked. "I'll be on my best behavior. Watch, we'll all get along _swimmingly._ "

~

This was a disaster.

Undyne had said, through bared teeth that almost looked like a smile, that this was _fine._ After all, Sans was Alphys' friend. And while Undyne sometimes _really questioned Alphys' taste in people,_ she respected commitments to friends.

Sans, for his part, had kept the fish puns to a minimum while Alphys set up the DVD. For him, that was pretty good.

So, for the first twenty minutes of the show, things were...well, they were too tense to be _fun._ But maybe they were marginally enjoyable?

But then the phone call came. Alphys nervously excused herself, praying that Sans would behave and Undyne wouldn't murder him.

"H-hello?"

"Hello, Alphys, darling!" crooned Mettaton over the phone. "I just wanted to make sure that you're tuned in for my _first ever_ guest appearance!"

Oh, _god._ She'd forgotten that, too. Once this date from hell was over, she was going to invest in a planner.

"Uh, well, I-I'm actually..."

"You're _not_ watching it?" _Crap_ , she could _hear_ the pout in his voice. "My first appearance on a talk show, on the _Surface_ ,  and _you_ , my _best friend_ , aren't going to watch it?"

Alphys was really starting to regret this whole "put yourself out there and be a good friend" thing. She wanted nothing more than to lock herself away until she died.

"Uh, uh, uhhh-of course I am!" she said, faking a smile as she started to sweat. "I just...need to turn it on!"

"Oh, _thank_ you, darling! I knew you'd be there for me," Mettaton gushed. In the distance, someone called his name. "That's my cue, darling! We'll talk all about this once I'm done!"

He hung up.

~

Neither Undyne nor Sans were exceptionally happy with the decision to watch Mettaton's guest spot. Undyne hated shows about talking ("Why talk when you can PUNCH?") and Sans wasn't too keen on Mettaton ("I dunno, something about him just _grinds my gears._ ").

"L-look, I know this isn't... _great_. But it wi-will really mean a lot to M-Mettaton, and that m-means a lot to me."

Both Undyne and Sans huffed, but before either could reply, there was a loud cry of "METTATON?" from outside. Alphys' window seemed to explode inside; Papyrus had flipped through it.

"Hey, bro, you stuck the landing," Sans greeted.

Papyrus dusted off his shoulders before eagerly perching himself on the arm of the sofa. "I didn't know he was going to be on this show!" he said excitedly, grabbing a pillow to hug in anticipation. "He must be a special guest!"

"Anyone that high-maintenance is a 'special' guest," Undyne grumbled, crossing her arms.

"W-well, it's just an hour," Alphys mumbled, sinking down in her seat.

It was probably the longest hour of Alphys' life. Undyne kept asking when Mettaton and the host would fight, since they _obviously_ hated each other; Sans kept snarking at the screen. Undyne kept threatening to punch Sans for talking too much; Sans shot puns right back at her. Papyrus kept shushing the both of them.

Meanwhile, Alphys was internally screaming the entire time, facing the realization that _all of her friends hated each other._  

~

Finally, the end came, signalled by a text from Mettaton reading, "Thanks for watching, darling! Mwah <3 -MTT"

"I never realized how _difficult_ being a robot celebrity is," Papyrus said wondrously, while Undyne threw back her head with a groan.

"I liked him better when he was trying to kill Frisk. He's past his prime."

"He is not!" Papyrus argued. "We never saw the _real_ MTT then! He's showing us who he is beneath the metal. Isn't that right, Sans? Sans?"

Sans, predictably, was asleep. Papyrus huffed.

"He never could appreciate true talent, even Underground," he said, standing up and hoisting his brother onto his back. Sans barely stirred. Papyrus, though, sent Alphys a smile. "Thanks for inviting us, Dr. Alphys!"

Alphys didn't reply. She merely stared straight ahead.

Undyne, meanwhile, got up and stretched. "Well, that's an hour we're never getting back. Hey, Alphys, do you..." She trailed off as she looked down at Alphys, who still was just staring straight ahead. "Uh...Alphys...?"

She started shaking. First her hands, then her tail, and soon her whole body. Her mouth opened, and a sound came from deep in her throat. It started quietly, but soon grew very loud.

"aaaaaAAAAAAAA **AAAAAA _AAAAAAA!!!!!!"_**

Undyne stared at her girlfriend in shock. She'd _never_ gotten this loud in her whole life. "Alphys?"

"This was a _disaster!_  Everything about to day was _horrible!_ " Alphys cried. "I had planned out the best date! Everything was going to be perfect for us! But _no! NO!_  I messed it up, just like I mess up _everything!_ " With a whimper, Alphys buried her face in her hands.

"Hey, hey, Alphys! Today wasn't so bad!" Undyne quickly plopped next to Alphys, rubbing her back soothingly. 

"Y-yes it _was!_ I just..." She sniffled. "I wanted us to have the _perfect date._ "

"Oh, Alphys, you _nerd._ "

Alphys looked up, and Undyne pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her scaly head. " _Any_  time I'm with you is the perfect date."

"R-really?"

" _Duh._ I love spending time with you. Plus, all the effort you put into today is _super hot._ "

Alphys blinked, and her whole head went bright red as she practically melted into the sofa. Undyne laughed.

"Come on, I'll make you your crappy noodles and we can finish that anime."

So, as they cuddled on the sofa, Alphys slurping her noodles and Undyne repeatedly punching the air whenever something cool happened on TV, Alphys realized that her hypothesis had been proven wrong.

 _This_ was, scientifically, the best possible date.


	4. Sable and Lula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little story about what happened to the skeleton child who made it to the Monster village.

            One of the most notable things about Bunny Monsters was that, in times of threat, they could _run._ So that is exactly what Lula did as the humans started to attack the kingdom.

She did something, though, that most bunnies didn't do: she stopped. But there _was_ a good reason; her ears, sensitive as they were, picked up the faint sound of a child crying. She glanced back at the battle, then scurried toward the noise. She couldn't let a child be left behind, not in this awful battle.

After fighting through clouds of dust and smoke, she finally found the source of the crying.

_Oh._

It was a _skeleton_ child.

Her nose twitched as she thought. Most folks weren't keen on skeletons, she knew. They were too close to humans for anyone's comfort. But...this was a _child._ A little girl, judging by her dress. And...Lula let out a short breath as she saw the pile of dust behind the crying girl. She was all alone now.

She looked up as she heard a battle cry nearby. There was no time to lose.

Small though she was, Lula scooped the girl up into her arms, and once again she was running. She saw a group of monsters heading toward Mt. Ebott, and she hurried after them, down into one of the caves.

The girl was still crying, but she clung to Lula like a lifeline as they hurried inside. In the panic, it seemed no one noticed the two of them. They all seemed focused on the cave opening. The girls eyesockets widened, and she quickly said something Lula couldn't quite understand. She turned to look, and her mouth hung open as seven humans stood in the cave opening.

A cry of terror went through what remained of the monsters. The humans began to chant as they raised their arms.

Then, suddenly, there was a flash of white. No, not a flash, a wall covered the entrance to the cave.

They were trapped.

The little girl clutched Lula tighter, screaming out something in her strange language. Young as she seemed, she knew what had happened. Lula hugged her close and tried to soothe her. Around her, Monsters were in a state of shock. Cries of dismay surrounded them, and she hugged the little girl close.

A booming voice called for them to follow, and she walked in that direction as the girl sobbed against her shoulder. She didn't know how to feel, so she tried her best to focus on the girl.

The remaining monsters trekked on. Progress was slow as they entered what seemed like a huge chamber filled with magma. Every now and again, there were would be a scream of grief. Weaker monsters, it seemed, couldn't handle the stress of the situation. At least two dissolved before they reached a darker, cooler area and made camp.

Along the walk, the skeleton girl had quieted down, and spent most of the time with her head on Lula's shoulder. Once they reached camp, Lula set her down. There were a few stares from nearby monsters, but she ignored them.

"What's your name, honey?" she asked the little girl, holding her arms to keep her steady. The girl blinked up at her.

"Arial?"

"Arial? What a nice name, Arial," Lula said with a warm smile. She gestured to herself. "I'm Lula."

The girl, Arial, blinked again. "Lula?"

Lula nodded, pointing to herself again. "Lula."

Arial blinked again, then pointed to herself. "Sable."

Sable? _Oh_ , that must be her name, not Arial. Lula smiled. "Hello, Sable."

Sable almost managed a smile, but she swayed again and sat down with a whimper. Lula knelt down to stroke her skull.

"Oh, you're all right now, sweetie. I'll take care of you, don't worry."

Silently, Sable leaned against her. Lula hugged her close. They'd be fine. They'd find a way to be fine.

~

Sable was getting worse.

Walking from the first camp to the next, she had been all right. She walked halfway before she started swaying. But now, as they prepared for the next day's journey, she couldn't even stand. Lula worried the stress had been too much for such a little girl. The young and old seemed to be dissolving left and right; monsters were already so delicate, and a war only made things so much worse.

Lula tried to keep up her spirits by singing some children's songs to her. Every now and again, a smile would flit across her skull, but she mainly just laid quietly against Lula's shoulder, half-asleep.

In between songs, Lula would tell her of the wonderful life they'd have once they found somewhere safe to settle. She knew Sable couldn't understand her. It was more to distract herself from what was likely to happen.

~

"Lula?"

The rest of the camp was asleep, but Lula was awake the moment she heard the soft voice say her name. She sat up and leaned over Sable.

"I'm here, Sable. What's the matter, honey?"

Sable's sockets filled with tears as she said something in her strange language. Lula gently shushed her and stroked her skull.

"You're fine, sweetie, you're just fine. We'll be finding somewhere safe soon."

She lifted her hand from Sable's skull, and her heart wrenched as she saw white dust coating her fur. _No._

Sable started to cry. Lula shushed her, still stroking her skull and trying to ignore the puffs of dust that came off of it as she did.

"Sable, Sable, you're fine, okay? You'll be fine."

After a few moments, Sable stopped crying. She looked up at Lula with wide sockets.

"Lula?"

She knew. Lula swallowed.

"Yes, Sable?"

Sable pointed to one of the glowing blue flowers nearby as she spoke.

"Yes, it's very pretty, isn't it?" She tried to keep her voice in check.

Sable gave her a full, tired smile before saying something else. Lula suspected it was "Thank you" in her language. She shut her sockets and let out a breath. For a moment, it looked as though she had just fallen asleep.

In the end, there was very little dust; Sable had been so small that her remains fit in Lula's two paws. She scattered the dust around the flower quietly, then went back to her sleeping spot. There, she wept for the rest of the night.

~

Later, when things were safe and Snowdin had been established, Lula would have an inn, a shop, and two lovely daughters. Once she retired, Arial took care of the inn, and Sable took care of the shop. She was quite old when she finally dissolved, and she only had one request: scatter her dust at the flower in Waterfall she always visited.

She assured her daughters that she had a friend waiting for her there.

 


	5. The Void Stares Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burgerpants has a nightly visitor, proving that the Graveyard Shift sucks.

Graveyard shift was the _worst_ shift.

First of all, no one came. Because _why would they_. Who was going to get up and get a Glamburger at _three in the morning?_

But then there was also _him._ Sometimes he didn't show, but most nights he did. He always seemed to sprout up from the ground and stand in the corner for hours. Sometimes his hands moved, but mostly he was still, smiling and yet managing to still look so sad.

Really, Burgerpants could _totally_ relate.

The whole thing wouldn't be such a problem if _other_ people saw him, too. But no, _he_ was the only one who ever seemed to. He knew who it was, of course. He'd thought asking "Hey, why is the hotel haunted by the ghost of the old Royal Scientist?" was a pretty normal question.

But everyone he asked, from those two girls in the alley to his boss, assured him that he was crazy. Which, y'know, _was great._

But he definitely remembered another Royal Scientist before Dr. Alphys, one with a beat-up face like the Mystery Man in the corner. He'd been one of the first customers to MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, back when Burgerpants thought he could get _famous_.

~

_"Hi, welcome to MTT-Brand Burger Emporium," he said brightly. If he could sell this, he could absolutely make it onto TV._

_In front of him stood a tall skeleton and a short dinosaur, both in white lab coats. The skeleton, he knew, was the Royal Scientist. He had some funny name; Burgerpants (oh, damn it, now he was starting to think of_ himself _as Burgerpants) would look it up later. The dinosaur kept looking up at the Royal Scientist anxiously, and he crossed his arms with a frown._

_"Why is everything so expensive?" he asked._

_"We like to keep things in line with the Surface," Burgerpants replied, staying chipper. The Royal Scientist looked down at the dinosaur, who gave him an embarrassed smile._

_"Out of all your attempts to make me like humans, Alphys, this is the worst_ _yet_. _"_

_"Well, wa-wait! Y'know, this means a lot to Mettaton a-and...y'know, I-I want to help my friend o-out."_

_The Royal Scientist sighed, then looked at Burgerpants. "How did you end up with a job like this?"_

_"O-oh. I...can't talk to customers unless you order something," Burgerpants said, looking up worriedly at the camera directly above him. Last time he had gotten chatty, Mettaton spent a whole day playing the conversation back at him—somehow even after he'd gotten home._

_The Royal Scientist sent another frown to the dinosaur, who shrugged. He sighed._

_"Well, take my advice, young man. You can do better than working somewhere soulless like this. If you stare too long into these kinds of voids, they have a tendency to stare back."_

_"I...do-don't think that's the quote, Gaster," the dinosaur whispered._

_The Royal Scientist—Gaster, he guessed—waved a hand and turned to leave._

_"Gaster, you_ pr-promised _you would give this a chance. For Mettaton!"_

_"I did. And there was its chance."_

_Burgerpants stared after them as they left. What a weird guy._

~

Ah, there he was.

With what looked like a great deal of effort, the ghost--or whatever--pulled himself up in the corner. His empty eyes stared at Burgerpants, and his hands moved weirdly in front of him. The first time, Burgerpants had been terrified. Now, he just stared at what used to be the Royal Scientist.

Maybe he had been right when he'd come in. Honestly? It'd make a _ton_ of sense. His parents hadn't even remembered to give him a birthday card this year; maybe he was close to melting away, too.

He'd definitely stared too long into the Food Service Void.

He sighed, then grabbed a Glamburger wrapper and rolled it up. He stuck it in his mouth, wishing he could afford something stronger, and lit it up. He took a drag as the mangled hands kept moving desperately, then shook his head as he leaned back.

"Wish I could help you, buddy. But you and me? We're both stuck in the void for good."


	6. Family Beginnings - 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of a four-part story about Sans and Papyrus' parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written very quickly, which means the style is weird and it's sappy as all hell. BUT I couldn't let inspiration pass me by.

                Skeletons didn’t have much in the way of government. The village was small enough that most decisions could be made with regular village meetings. However, that did _not_ mean that everyone was on equal footing. Some families were more… _esteemed_ than others.

                By far the most esteemed had to be the Garalde family. An old family—in fact, they were one of the few that spoke pure Serif—they had more or less been the village’s driving voice for generations. Perhaps it was because they had the best crops, perhaps it was because of their clean, precise linguistics, or perhaps it was simply because the whole family carried themselves in a way that demanded respect.

                Whatever the reason, it was safe to say that the village was shaken up when Palatino, the second son of Galliard and Perpetua Garalde, eloped with that _Courier_ girl.

                Palatino was almost written off, which was honestly a little unfair. It wasn’t like he _chose_ to fall in love with Lucida. It just… _happened._

                She was a seamstress; it was a family trade, passed down from mother to daughter, but there was no denying she had a talent for it. As a result, her work became the most sought after in the village. Even Trinité, the Garalde matriarch, was tempted into buying Lucida’s work. But, of course, she was _much_ too important to fetch it. So, really, this whole thing was _her_ fault; as the youngest male in the family, shopping duties fell to Palatino.

                Though, no matter where he had seen her, he would have been doomed. Lucida was a tiny thing, with delicate, quick phalanges, wide, friendly eye sockets, and the biggest, brightest smile Palatino had ever seen. Even when she was still, she lit up the entire marketplace.

                As he approached, she leaned against the counter and sent her bright smile his way.

                “Ooh, you’re the Garalde boy!” she called, the unmistakable sing-song of Slab-Serif coloring her voice. “I know which order’s for you!” Before he could respond, she held out a carefully tied box and gave him a wink. “I’ll warn ya, though, it might be a bit snug on ya.”

                Palatino stood up straight, trying to not look embarrassed. “They’re…they’re not for me!”

                Lucida giggled as she handed him the box. “Nah, I’m just jokin’ with you. Must be for your girl, yeah?”

                “My, uh…my grandmother, actually,” he replied stiffly. “She’s…she’s very fond of your work, Miss Courier.” He managed an awkward little smile.

                Lucida blinked, then set a hand over her ribcage with a smile. “Well, bless me, I’m honored. Imagine, a _Garalde_ likin’ a little Courier’s work.” She pushed a paper toward him. “I’ll still need your signature, though, sir.”

                He glanced up at her, then back down as he signed. “Um, Palatino, please. Not ‘sir.’”

                She smiled at him once more as he stood up. He handed her a little bag of gold, then gave her a nod and began to walk away. As he got a decent way from her stall, he suddenly heard her cry, “Oi, Palatino!”

                He stopped and turned. Lucida crooked her finger, ushering him back. His browbone furrowed as he walked back.

                “It…it was the right amount, wasn’t it? If you need more, I have…”

                “Let me see your hand, please.”

                Palatino blinked as she interrupted him, but he did as she asked. She plucked an already-threaded needle from a pin-cushion and, with quick, neat stitches, fixed a little tear on his shirt cuff.

                “This was botherin’ me like you wouldn’t believe,” she said as she snipped off the thread. She kept a hold on his hand as she sent him another wide smile. “My name’s Lucida. Come back any time you need something stitched up.” She gave his hand a quick pat, then let him go to be on his way.

                Honestly, how could he _not_ fall for her after that?

~

                For her part, Lucida knew she would probably end up brokenhearted. After all, he was a _Garalde_. They rarely interacted with anyone outside of their social sphere; a Slab-Serif working girl was no doubt _miles_ below Palatino’s social standards. But…well, he _did_ have lovely cheekbones and such _broad_ shoulder blades…and the poor dear had been so terribly shy, she had no choice but to flirt and tease him a little. And, honestly, there was no harm in trying her luck.

                But imagine her surprise when he came back a week later, a shirt in hand and a slightly panicked look in his sockets.

                “Well! Fancy seein’ you here, Mr. Garalde,” she chirped, looking up from her embroidery. He gave her a shy smile, then held up the shirt.

                “Hello. Um…is your offer still open? T-to  stitch things up?” He unfolded the shirt to show a large tear at the shoulder. “It’s my nephew’s naming ceremony tonight and I noticed I had this. I-I don’t have another shirt and there’s no time to buy one. I-I mean, if it’s too short-notice, I completely understand and—”

                “Hush, hush.” She took the shirt and looked it over, then gave him a wink. “Give me five minutes and it’ll look good as new.”

                A few flicks of her needle later, and it really was like the shirt had never been torn. He looked it over in amazement, then gave her a smile.

                “This is amazing! How much do I owe you?”

                She waved her hand. “It’s on the house,” she said. “You’ve obviously been under enough stress today.” She leaned against the stall with a warm grin. “Have fun at the ceremony, Palatino.”

                He gave her a lovely, marrow-melting grin. “Thank you, Lucida. Really, I can’t thank you enough.” He looked up as he heard his sister call for him, then gave Lucida one last smile before hurrying out from the market. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say there was a little bit of a spring in his step. And, despite her best attempts not to, she really hoped it was because of her.

~

                For the next few months, he kept coming back. Once a week, it seemed, something would need to be mended—baby clothes for his nephew, his sister’s favorite dress, an alteration for his grandmother’s latest purchase. They would chat while she worked, and he would linger after she finished. She never charged him for those, and he always tipped extremely well when he picked up orders.

                Once, though, upon realizing that nothing in the house needed to be mended, Palatino resorted to cutting a huge hole into one of his shirts just to have an excuse to go see her. Lucida noticed, of course, but politely said nothing about it. She _did_ , though, make a comment about how much she enjoyed his company, and, if he wanted, he was welcome to visit even without any torn clothes.

                So that’s what he started to do. And it was _lovely._

                It started with little bits of chat when she was between customers. Comments on the weather or a particularly picky customer Lucida had dealt with or something _completely_ snooty Palatino’s brother Renard had done. After a while, she’d invited him to sit with her behind the stall. She put him to work, of course; he would thread spools and pull out the fabrics she asked for while she sewed away.

Their conversations progressed, to their families, their hobbies, jokes (Palatino had _amazing_ comedic timing), and even their dreams for the future. Lucida wanted to have a huge family; Palatino wanted to be seen as his own person, not just the “second son”. Lucida wanted to expand her trade out to Monsters and maybe even humans; Palatino wanted to focus on things that engaged his mind, not just sitting on old money.

It was in the middle of one of their talks that Claritas and Hever of the Times family—another old Serif family, connected by marriage to the Garaldes—came by to pick up an order. Palatino had ducked under the stall to hide; he was by no means ashamed to be seen with Lucida, but they both knew that if word of their friendship got out, things would be brought to a very swift halt.

                Lucida gave them a smile as they approached. “Nice to see ya, Miss Times, Mr. Times,” she greeted brightly. “If you’ll wait just a mo, I’ll have your order all nice’n packed up.”

                As she pulled out a very fine dress to wrap up, Claritas sent her brother a smirk. “It’s a tremendously lucky thing she works so well with her hands,” she said, loud enough for Lucida to hear. “A skeleton could never get far with a voice like that.”

                Hever laughed. “Honestly. With an accent that thick, she may as well be a _Gaster_.”

                Palatino looked up from his hiding spot, watching Lucida with concern. Her smile stiffened, and he could see the way her browbone furrowed with hurt. But there was nothing he could do here, and he guessed jumping over the stall and punching the lights out of both of them was out of the question. So he watched, heart breaking, as Lucida put on her best professional face and gave them their orders. Once they left, though, her smile died, and she quickly turned her sign from “Open” to “Closed”.

                As Palatino started to get up, she slid down beside him with a sigh. Once she was fully hidden, she covered her sockets with her hands.

                “I hate my accent,” she whispered, curling in to make herself even tinier than normal. “I _hate_ it.”

                “You shouldn’t,” Palatino assured her quickly. She shook her head.

                “It’s awful. It sounds like baby-talk and…and no one takes us Slab-Serifs seriously because of it!” She sniffled. “ _God_ , I wish I sounded like you.”

                “I’m glad you don’t,” he said quietly. He pulled away one of her hands to look at her, gently holding it as he added, “I think your voice is lovely. I could listen to you talk all day.”

                She sniffled again, pulling her hand away so she could shove his shoulder. “You’re a wicked flatterer, Tino,” she said, though she didn’t sound _quite_ as upset. He smiled at her.

                “Is it still flattery if it’s the truth? If so, I’ll be the worst flatterer in the village. Your voice is better than any song I’ve ever heard.”

                “Tino…”

                “It puts every instrument to shame.”

                “Oh, Tino, _stop!_ ” A giggle snuck into her voice as she went to shove him again, but he caught her hands this time.

                “And if I could hear it every day for the rest of my life, I’d be the luckiest man in the world,” he said softly.

                She looked up at him, sockets wide. He met her gaze steadily. For a long moment, they sat in complete stillness. That one statement, made by shy-as-anything Palatino, unleashed a whole flood of possibilities and hopes that they had both been very careful not to share.

But, as the wave of emotion cleared, there was really only one thing they could do after that.

                Luckily, Palatino had some friends in high places.

~

                For the first month of their marriage, they were very careful to keep it to themselves. A little bit of ribbon tied on their ring fingers was the only change, as far as the village knew. It wasn’t ideal; Palatino wanted to announce to the whole world that he had been lucky enough to marry the greatest seamstress in the village, and it took all of Lucida’s strength not to re-introduce herself to everyone as Mrs. Lucida Garalde. But neither of their families would support an elopement, and, though they loved each other enough for a spur-of-the-moment marriage, they weren’t quite ready to be cut off from their respective families.

                But, of course, talk had already started cropping up in the village. Being married emboldened the two of them, naturally enough, and so they began talking _outside_ of Lucida’s stall. Whispers of how they had been seen laughing together in the Village Square, gossip over how they had been walking _alone_ near the forest…but things really came to a head when Lucida gave Palatino a gift.

                It was a scarf. Lovely and warm, and the brightest shade of red Lucida could find. Delicate embroidery curled at the edges, and the letters P and L intertwined in one corner. It was by far Lucida’s best work, and the fact that it was given to Palatino—free of charge!—did not go unnoticed.

                Trinité had been the one to corner Palatino about it. She demanded that he cut off whatever this thing was with Lucida.

                “You are a _Garalde_. You _do not_ go associating with common families like hers,” she spat at him, bones creaking with each word. “If you don’t tell this girl that you’re finished with her, then dire consequences will follow.”

                A year ago, Palatino might have been scared into doing as his grandmother asked. Now, though, emboldened by love and the future he and Lucida were set on having, he decided the hell with it.

                So, early the next morning, as Lucida was setting up her stall, he marched his way over to her. He waited a moment, then pulled her into a kiss that the whole village saw. Lucida saw stars, and she couldn’t help her breathless giggle as he pulled away.

                “Wasn’t expecting that,” she said with a bright grin, setting her hands on his clavicles. She blinked, realizing what had just happened. “Oh, but we really shouldn’t—”

                “I’m taking you to meet my family,” he interrupted, looking at her intensely. “It’s time we stop hiding.” He took her hand and guided her to the section of the village the Garaldes lived, with grand houses and fields with enough fruit and vegetables to feed the entire village several times over.

                “Tino…Tino, are ya sure this is the right time?” she asked as he led the way to the large house at the edge of the forest. He looked back at her, then pulled her close. He cradled her face, pressing his browbone against hers.

                “I should have done this from the start,” he murmured. “I was…I’ve never been happier than I’ve been with you. And I shouldn’t have let fear get in the way of our happiness.” He smiled. “Even if they disown me, it’d still be infinitely better than a life without you.”

                Lucida returned his smile, the very bottom of her sockets starting to grow wet, and she stood up on her toes to clack her teeth against his in another kiss. She took a deep breath.

                “Well, then. Guess we should go say hello,” she said. She straightened her skirt, but stopped as she heard a strange, low noise. “Did ya hear that?”

                Palatino frowned. “It almost sounds like horns. But what…” He gripped Lucida’s hand as he heard a scream, and then several others joining it. She looked up at him with wide sockets, then ran back toward the market.

                The quiet village was a scene of absolute chaos and carnage. Dust powdered the ground like snow, and several houses were already engulfed with flames. A wave of armored soldiers charged in, cutting down any skeleton—man, woman, or child—that came in their way. Only one species would be so cruel and thorough in its destruction.

                _Humans._

                They poured into the square, apparently set on completely decimating the village. Both Palatino and Lucida were frozen in fear by what they saw, until a group of humans noticed them. With a scream of fright, Lucida shot several bones at them. A few humans fell, but that only seemed to anger the rest. They charged at the two of them. As they came closer, Palatino’s sockets glowed blue, as did the humans. With a cry of rage, he threw them back.

                “Lucida, _run!_ ” he shouted over his shoulder. “Find your family!”

                “No! We stay together!” she cried, then shot another few bones at a human who charged from their right. She grabbed his arm and pulled. “We can still warn yours!”

                He looked back to her, then used his magic to throw another group of humans away. There was no time. They could either die together trying to find his family, or…

                “To the forest. They don’t know their way in there,” he said quickly. He took off his scarf and tucked it into his coat, then took Lucida’s hand and ran. She followed, trusting him completely. It was clear that the village was lost. For all they knew, they might be the only survivors.

~

                They were _not_ the only survivors, but they might as well have been. Two of the survivors—Chancery and his granddaughter Sable—had such thick Blackletter accents that their Arial was practically another language. And the third, Wing Ding…well, being a Gaster, poor W.D. could hardly speak Arial at all. But, at the very least, it was better than being completely alone as they made their way into the Monster city.

                But the humans were coming this way. Everyone knew the primary fight was between the Monsters and the Humans; Skeletons were just collateral.

                When the humans attacked the city, W.D. charged into battle, and Chancery was hit by a stray attack. Lucida tried to call for W.D. and grab Sable, but waves of Monsters separated them all before she could. Palatino knew they couldn’t wait for the others; they had to go to safety. So, despite Lucida’s struggles, he more or less dragged her into a nearby cave. He ventured as deep as he could; other monsters were already pouring in, but there was no time to focus on that. They had to find safety. _Now._

                They carefully made their way over precarious rock bridges over magma, and soon found a cool, dark area with water pouring through. This would be a good place to stay for a while, but as they heard a loud, collective scream of dismay from behind them, Palatino urged Lucida onward. Monsters didn’t trust skeletons; they couldn’t take any risks by staying out in the open.

                So, truthfully, he considered it divine intervention when he saw the door.

                It was a gray door set in the wall of the cave. It was so out of place, it should have been suspicious, but neither Palatino nor Lucida thought to question it. Doors meant rooms, and a room meant safety. He threw the door open, and they both ran inside.

                The room was completely gray, and completely empty. Lucida was suddenly doubting their decision to come in, but Palatino assuaged her.

                “We’ll just stay until things have settled down,” he said, setting his hands on her small shoulders. “Once we’re sure the battle is over, we’ll go back out.

                She grudgingly agreed, then more or less collapsed against one of the gray walls. Palatino slid down beside her with a sigh, then took her hand.

                “We’re safe,” he murmured. “That’s what’s important.”

                She looked up at him, then squeezed his hand. “And we’re together.”

                Palatino smiled wearily at her, then pulled out his scarf from his coat. He wound it gently around both of their necks, and they leaned against each other, taking a moment to gather themselves before bracing for whatever might come next.


	7. Family Beginnings - 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of a four-part story about Sans and Papyrus' parents.

                The door was gone.

                Neither of them had been quite sure when it had happened. The plan had been to spend a few hours in the room, then take their chances and leave. Lucida and Palatino had dozed off in shifts, with the one who was awake keeping tabs on the door in case anything came in. But somehow, in a moment where neither of them were watching, the door had just…vanished.

                Their first reaction had been panic. Lucida rushed immediately to where the door had been, feeling around for it. “It has to be here,” she whispered frantically as she searched. “Doors don’t just _disappear._ ”

                “It might be an…an illusion, or something like that,” Palatino assured, keeping his voice as steady as he could. He carefully pulled Lucida away from the wall, holding her shoulders gently. “We’re tired. We can’t think after everything that’s happened.”

                “But, Tino, we’re _trapped!_ ” she cried, and he shushed her gently.

                “So let’s wait. We’ll…we’ll rest and gather our wits, and when we find the door, we’ll figure out what to do next.” He gave her the best smile he could manage. “It won’t be long, Luce. And you can’t get much safer than a doorless room.” She didn’t look at all comforted by that; he squeezed her shoulders. “Trust me, Lucida. We’ll be fine, and once we’re out, we’ll start our life properly. No matter what’s out there, we’re going to be happy together.”

                Lucida’s jaw clenched, but she let out a long breath once she met Palatino’s sockets. “Okay,” she said after a long moment. She reached up to cup his cheekbone. “Okay. I trust you.”

                So they slept. And then they talked, trying to push away the shock of all that had happened with fluffy conversation about what kind of house they should live in (“Something cozy, but decent-sized,” Palatino suggested.) and how many children they should have (“I want a whole _house_ of them!” Lucida said, giving the first of her trademark smiles since Palatino’s kiss in the village square.). Eventually, though, they couldn’t help the shift in their mood, addressing their grief (“I’ll never see my sister again,” Lucida sobbed.) and regret (“I fought with my grandmother before I left. I never apologized,” Palatino said, covering his face.).

                Eventually, they simply fell silent, hands clasped as they wondered if this was the end for them as well.

                It wasn’t clear how much time passed. It could have been several hours, or it could have been an eternity. Palatino wagered it was a couple days, but one thing was frightfully clear: Lucida wasn’t doing well. For the longest stretch of time, she merely leaned against him listlessly, her spark gone as she stared ahead with half-closed sockets.

                Palatino wasn’t sure if it was from the attack or from this damned room itself, but something was sucking the life away from her. Skeletons were frightfully delicate when it came to shock, he knew that, but he’d never imagined that vibrant, cheerful Lucida would fall victim to it.

                He tried to be cheerful, telling her funny stories he’d never been able to tell at her stall. He tried to make her laugh by suggesting the silliest names for their future children. He told her again and again how much he loved her, and to please, _please_ stay with him, because he couldn’t survive this on his own.

                She didn’t dissolve just yet, but she was clearly very weak. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to find a way out of this room. His sockets blazed blue as he tried again and again to break the walls, to rip out the wood or concrete or stone or _whatever_ these walls were made of, but nothing worked. He tried for hours, or maybe even days. But finally, exhausted and with nothing to show for his effort, he had no choice but to stop.

                They hadn’t even had a chance to start their lives.

                Defeated, he gathered Lucida into his arms and just sat with her in silence, whispering apologies as he waited for the end. She broke his thoughts, though, as she cracked her sockets open and whispered, “Tino, look.”

                He brought his head up.

                _The door was back._

                He wasted no time. He scooped Lucida into his arms and got to his feet, energy surging in him at the thought of escape. He opened the door and ran out as fast as he could.

                And what he found was…startling.

                The cave looked the same as the one they’d left a few weeks ago, but there were...shops? Buildings? _Lights?_ How had this happened? They had to have been in there less than a week…right?

                Palatino’s curiosity was quickly stopped as Lucida’s head lolled against his chest. It didn’t matter where they were or what had happened. Lucida needed help, _now._

                He wasn’t going to lose her. Not after all of this.

~

                Monsters didn’t speak Serif or Arial, but there was no doubt that the skeleton man carrying his unconscious wife was calling for help. So, after a few monsters tried to ask what was wrong and gave up at Palatino’s incomprehensible answers, it was a helpful fish-monster that finally guided him to the Inn and Shop in Snowdin.

                The owner, a little old bunny-monster, had a secret fondness for skeletons, so she wasted no time in calling a healer for Lucida. Meanwhile, using mainly gestures and short, easy-to-figure-out words, she urged Palatino to keep calm before guiding him to another room, so he could rest and recover as well.

                For a few days, he had no choice but to stay in his room. While he was in much better shape than Lucida, the grey room seemed to have drained him as well. He slept more than he had in his entire life. He didn’t want to eat, but he also knew he needed to, so he forced down the soup and tea the owner gave him. Every now and again, she would say a few words slowly to him, but he merely stared in response, unable to even guess what she was saying.

                Finally, _finally,_ he had the strength to leave after a few days of recovery. He went straight to Lucida’s room, pushing past a younger bunny-monster without so much as a glance. He braced for the worst as he opened the door.

                But there she was.

                She was propped up on several pillows, and she still looked frail. But she was awake and aware, and the moment her sockets locked onto his, her face split into her bright smile.

                They didn’t even speak. Palatino was immediately at Lucida’s side, cradling her face and pressing his browbone to hers as he fully took in that she was _alive._

                It was one of the very, very few times Lucida ever saw Palatino cry.

~

                The truth was, Lucida needed quite a bit more care before she could leave the Inn. While Palatino wanted Lucida to be as well as possible, he was also getting restless. So he would regularly go out for walks in the snow, red scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. Monsters were all around, of course; the ones that saw him would regularly whisper. He wasn’t surprised; they were likely the last two skeletons left after the war.

                The strange thing was, not one seemed nervous despite all that had happened. Had they all recovered so quickly from the battle just a few weeks before? And how had they made a _village_ here underground? With electricity, even!

                It just didn’t make sense.

                One day, after his walk, he returned and headed straight to Lucida’s room. As usual, she sent him a bright smile as he came in.

                “Great news, Tino!” she chirped. “I’m just about well enough to take care of myself with a bit of help. Lula says she’ll have Sable move your things in here. Isn’t it funny that her daughter’s named Sable? I thought that was just a skeleton name.”

                Palatino blinked. “Lula?”

                “Oh, the Inn’s owner. Hasn’t she introduced herself?”

                Palatino blinked again. “You can…understand her?”

                Lucida shrugged. “Well, sort of. There’s a lot of gesturing still, so I might not be quite right. But she’s been teaching me some of their language while I’ve been cooped up here.” She glanced down at the bedside table. “Oh, and there’s this!” She picked up a little scrap of paper, holding it out to him. “Apparently, there’s a place called ‘the Core’ that’s always hiring. Maybe we could work there while we sort things out.”

                Palatino took the paper and shook his head. “Isn’t this…strange? I mean, we did walk into an empty cave, right?”

                “We did,” Lucida agreed.

                “But now there’s a whole…whole _city_ in here. This is impossible, isn’t it? That there’s been this much progress?”

                “We _did_ spend a while in a room with a disappearing door, Tino. I don’t think much is impossible after that.”

                “I know, but—” He trailed off as the door opened, with the owner—Lula, apparently—bearing a tray with a teapot. She greeted them in her strange language and, shockingly enough, Lucida replied in an almost-perfect imitation. She then tapped Palatino’s arm and said another thing in slightly-stilted Monster; Palatino could only pick out his name.

                “I’ve introduced ya,” Lucida murmured. Lula, meanwhile, gave him a smile.

                “Hello, me Lula,” she said in butchered Arial before setting the tray down over Lucida’s lap. She said something else to her, and Lucida shook her head before saying the Monster form of “thank you.” Lula nodded with a warm smile before stepping out.

                Lucida poured herself a cup of tea, then looked up at Palatino, who still looked dumbfounded. She smiled up at him, then reached out to take his hand.

                “You said that no matter what was outside that door, we were going t’be happy with each other,” she said quietly, then squeezed his hand tightly. “It doesn’t matter where we are, whether it’s…it’s some place in the future or past or _whatever it is_. We’re here, and we’re going to be happy.”

                Well, how could he argue with that?

~

                It took some time, but they slowly began to acclimate. Palatino insisted he would work in the Core alone; even after she was recovered, Lucida was never quite as strong as she’d been before…everything that had happened. She tired easily, and some days she looked and felt so brittle she thought she’d just fall apart. If it meant that she could live as easily as possible, Palatino would work every job in the world.

                As they began to build their lives together, it was inevitable that they would find their spouse’s faults. Lucida was a chatterbox; while this was refreshing at times, Palatino had snapped, “Just an _hour’s_ silence, Lucida! Please!” several times throughout their first year together. Oftentimes, this resulted in her not talking for at least a day out of spite. Meanwhile, Lucida found that Palatino—while not nearly as bad as the other Garaldes—had a definite streak of pride. While he voluntarily picked up extra shifts and worked long hours, it was clear he wasn’t happy in his work at the Core. Plus, he had difficulty learning Monster, and he’d finally given up trying to learn more than what was necessary.

                “It’s not like my job involves a lot of talking,” he said bitterly one evening. “I just push blocks back and forth to keep the steam moving.”

                “But ya need to talk to people,” she countered as patiently as she could.

                “No, _you_ need to talk to people. That’s probably why you learned this damned language so fast,” he grumbled. “Couldn’t bear not talking to someone for over twenty-four hours.”

                Lucida frowned hard. “At least I don’t think I’m too _good_ for Monsters,” she said under her breath as she returned to her language book.

                Palatino sat up stiffly. “I don’t think that!”

                “Yes, you do,” Lucida shot back. “Ya don’t understand what it’s like to work with the ‘common folk’. You think this way of living is below you!”

                “Fine! You’re right!” Palatino said, throwing up his hands. “I wanted to do something more than do grunt work with my life! I wanted us to live somewhere better than a one-room worker’s apartment!”

                “Then push for that. You need to _try_ , Tino, or you won’t move an inch in your life! You think I came into this world able to sew the way I do?”

                “You know, Lucida, it’s really easy to say this sort of thing when you’re not _living_ it…”

                “ _I did live it!_ I lived the kind of life you’re living _every day_ back in the village. And I found a way to find some joy in it, and…and now I feel so _useless_ and you’re _so_ unhappy and I can’t help you because I’m not strong enough a-and…” Her argument dissolved into tears. Palatino’s anger melted, and they were both quick to apologize for the fight.

                It wouldn’t be their last fight, of course. Some days, each would wonder if their spontaneous marriage had been the wise thing to do. But then Lucida would smile, or Palatino would let out the most god-awful, wonderful laugh, or they would have a moment sitting in Waterfall, staring up at the crystals in the ceiling and pretending they were the stars. And, once they looked at each other, they were certain that being together was the best possible thing they could do.

~

                One of those moments inspired Palatino to scrimp and save, keeping away bits of gold without telling Lucida. Then, nearly a year later, he was able to surprise her with a refurbished sewing machine and several bolts of cloth. She had kissed him several times, teeth clacking all over his skull, and immediately set to sewing.

                Soon, she was putting out clothes nice enough to sell.

                Not too long later, she became one of the most requested seamstresses in the Underground.

                Finally, things began to look up for the Garaldes. With plenty of work for both of them, they were able to move out of the worker’s apartments and into a lovely house in New Home. Lucida, now practically fluent in Monster, chatted easily with her customers as she sewed to her heart’s content. Palatino, for his part, had worked up a few more ranks at the Core; he still had a largely manual job, but he was able to design ideas for puzzles and put them forward to be vetted by the Royal Scientist. He never thought they actually got to him, but it was refreshing to use his brain _and_ get paid for it.

                For close to fifty years, they enjoyed their new, mostly comfortable life, still just as much in love with each other as they were when they were first married. But things weren’t _quite_ perfect yet. And it was abundantly clear that they were ready to take the next step in their marriage: _children._

~

                They had agreed right away that they wanted at least one child. A knucklebone each and some magic—along with a bit of patience on Lucida’s end—was all that was needed. Lucida was ready to use up every finger to have a houseful of children immediately, but Palatino convinced her that they should have this one first, _then_ decide if they wanted more. (With her delicate health, they couldn’t be too careful.)

                For the most part, things were rosy while they waited for their new arrival. Palatino bought heaps of toys and baby furniture; Lucida sewed onesies and other little outfits. Palatino hoped for a boy; Lucida didn’t care one way or another. They agreed to speak nearly exclusively Monster to them, to make things easier for them when they went to school. Really, they agreed on almost every decision made for their new family member. But there was _one_ argument they kept returning to: what to name the baby.

                One day, Lucida, doing a bit of embroidery on the soft, blue baby blanket she’d sewn the day before, decided to broach the subject. “Ya know what name I’ve always liked for a boy?” she said as she worked. “Sans. I’ve always liked the name Sans.”

                “ _Sans?_ ” Palatino grimaced as he repeated the name. Lucida looked up at him with a little frown.

                “What’s wrong with it?” she asked. “It’s a good name.”

                “But it’s so… _common._ I’m sure every family back home had at least one Sans.” Palatino shook his head as he sketched out another puzzle idea. “Our firstborn should have a strong name. Like…Garamond.” He looked up. “Or maybe even something like Papyrus.”

                “ _Papyrus_? Oh, god, Tino, what a stuffy name!” She snipped off the red thread she was using, then deftly threaded her needle with yellow. “And who cares what other people named their kids? There must’ve been twelve Lucida’s in the village, but that doesn’t seem to bother you.”

                “Of course not, you can’t help what your name is.”

                “I like my name, Palatino Garalde!” She sewed with a bit more force than necessary. “And not all of us skeletons were impressed by your lot’s fancy names. They’re a bit silly, honestly.”

                “At least they stand out! A Sans would get lost in the crowd.”

                “What crowd? Last I saw, there weren’t any other Sanses Underground.” She sniffed dismissively. “Though maybe we could just give our kid a _Monster_ name.”

                That comment earned her the cold shoulder for at least an hour. She did nothing to immediately alleviate the situation.

                She _did,_ however, approach him later that evening. With a sigh, she plunked herself down in his lap, much to his surprise. However, Palatino was still a bit miffed from the argument, so he merely held his book closer to his face. Lucida wrapped her arms loosely around his neck.

                “Look, love, we shouldn’t fight like this,” she said.

                Palatino lowered his book just enough to peek his sockets over the top of it.

                “Let’s compromise,” she said, looking up at him. “We’re planning on having at least two kids, right? So one can have a name I’d like, and one can have a name you’d like.”

                Palatino didn’t lower his book any further. “How do we decide which one this baby gets?”

                Lucida shrugged. “Flip a coin when they’re born?”

                It was a silly solution, but given how they’d fought, it was likely the best one. So that’s exactly what they did.

                And, to her credit, Lucida didn’t brag _too_ much when she wrote “Sans Garalde” on their son’s birth certificate.


	8. First (And Second And Third And Fourth And Fifth) Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick little story about how Papyrus and Undyne became friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family Beginnings is still happening! But I got a request for Undyne and Papyrus meeting as kids on Wattpad, and I just...kind of vomited this story out. Because my BrOTP feels were just too strong.

                There were two things wrong with Papyrus’ current situation in the fourth grade: one was that he was very short, and the other was that he was the only skeleton in the class…in the entire _school_ , actually. And, while there was a great variety of monsters in the Underground, Papyrus had yet to see any other skeletons outside of himself and Sans. Well, and his parents obviously, but they weren’t, strictly speaking, _skeletons_ anymore.

                And sometimes the kids at school could get really nasty about it. “Bonehead” and “numbskull” were pretty much his nicknames; Sans made the same jokes, of course, but it was different when he said them. They weren’t as… _mean._ Papyrus brushed them off best he could, though. You didn’t make friends by fighting, after all.

                But then his books were dumped in one of the waterways by the school. And he found heaps of trash in his locker. And his homework was stolen and copied, and _he’d_ be the one who’d get in trouble. So something had to be done.

                He couldn’t tell Sans. He was already working very hard at the Core to make up for their parents being gone, and he could barely make it through dinner without falling asleep at the table. He didn’t need to worry any more than he already did.

                The only solution was to take matters into his own bony hands.

                So, when he went to school and saw Gio, a particularly large rock monster, sidle up to his locker, he knew it was time to put his plan into action.

                “Hey, Papy­- _wuss_ ,” Gio mocked, earning some snickers from a few lookers-on. “You wanna know why you can’t fight anyone?”

                Papyrus set his jaw and didn’t respond. He jumped in fright as Gio slammed his locker shut.

                “Because you don’t have any _guts._ ” Gio roared with laughter, and the others joined in. Papyrus swallowed, then looked up at Gio defiantly.

                “You know, you might have actual friends if you were _nice!_ ”

                A chorus of “Ooooh”s rose up around them—half at the fact that someone stood up to Gio, half because they were _sure_ Papyrus was going to get his butt kicked. Gio looked around at the other kids, then scoffed.

                “Man, what a _loser._ ”

                Papyrus sucked in a breath. This was what he was waiting for. “Gio, why would you say something so _mean_ about yourself?”

                Another “Ooooh” rose up from the crowd as Gio sputtered in response.

                “I-I wasn’t talking about myself, you dweeb!”

                “You’re not a dweeb! You should really stop thinking so low of yourself.”

                “I don’t! _God,_ you’re _so annoying_!”

                “You know, even if you think you’re annoying, I’d be glad to be your friend. I think—”

                “ _Shut up!_ ” Gio grabbed the front of Papyrus’ shirt, nearly making him choke. “I’m gonna punch that stupid smile off your face!”

                “I-I’m not smiling!” As he struggled against Gio’s grip, he realized that he might have gone too far. “That’s just how my mouth is!”

                “ _Then you’re not gonna have a mouth anymore!_ ”

                Papyrus cringed and shut his sockets. Just as he prepared for a teeth-shattering punch, he heard a girl shout, “ _HEY!_ ”

                A gasp went through the hall, and Papyrus peeked his eyes open to see who it was. A fish-girl who looked a little older than him was frowning hard at Gio, her yellow eyes burning with anger.

                “Only _wimps_ fight people weaker than them,” she snapped. She balled her hands into fists and held them up. “If you wanna fight, fight someone tougher than you!”

                Gio abruptly let go of Papyrus’ shirt. “I-I wasn’t gonna fight him. We were…it was just a joke, Undyne!”

                “That’s a load of crap!” Undyne marched closer to them. She quickly grabbed Papyrus’ arm and pulled him behind her as she glared Gio down. “So you listen here, _punk._ Either you apologize to this kid, or I’m gonna make you _wish_ you stayed home today!”

                Gio shrank back, looking meekly between Papyrus and Undyne. Finally, in a tiny voice, he said, “Sorry.”

                “I couldn’t hear that. Say it again!”

                “Sorry!”

                “You gotta _mean it!_ ” Undyne raised her fist threateningly. Gio cringed and held up his arms.

                “I’m sorry, Papyrus! I won’t bother you again!” he said, sounding as if he was about to cry.

                Papyrus glanced between him and Undyne, then said, “That’s okay. I forgive you.”

                Undyne crossed her arms. “And you better _never_ pick on this kid again.” She whirled around to look at the other students. “And none of you better bother him, either! I’ll suplex anyone who does!”

                Every monster in the hallway gave a quiet nod of agreement. Undyne spat, then waved them off.

                “Now go on, get to class, you punks!”

                Nearly everyone ran to their respective classrooms, and Undyne headed down the hall, back toward the middle school classrooms. She stopped, though, as she heard a loud, “ _Wowie!_ ”

                “Huh?” She turned to see Papyrus staring at her with wide, starry sockets.

                “That was _amazing!_ How did you get to be so tough?” he asked as he ran up to her.

                “Uh…I was just born that way, you know?” she said, giving him a big grin. She dropped it as she crossed her arms. “And I really, _really_ don’t like it when strong people are mean to weaker people. It just…it makes me so angry, I could… _NGAH!_ ”

                Papyrus jumped as Undyne punched a nearby locker hard enough to dent it. She let out a huff, then turned back to him.

                “Look, uh, Papyrus?” He nodded as she got his name right. “If anyone, _anyone_ , bothers you again, tell them you’re a friend of Undyne’s, okay? Then _no one_ will mess with you.” She grinned again. “And if they do, I’ll kick their butts so hard their _moms_ will feel it!” She looked up as the bell rang. “Aw, crap, it’s time for class.” She gave Papyrus a little wave, to which he gave a big one in return.

                “Bye, Undyne! You’re the toughest!” he called, then ran to class with a huge grin on his face. He couldn’t wait to tell Sans about how he made the _coolest_ friend today.

~

                “Seriously, Pap, we could’ve just gotten you a cake.”

                “This is much better than a cake will ever be!”

                Sans and Papyrus stood in front of the recruiting office for the Royal Guard. Papyrus, currently vibrating with excitement, had asked for only one thing for his high school graduation present: he wanted to join the Royal Guard. Sans guessed that he’d gotten the idea from the 12th grade assembly the Royal Guard did at the school every year, and, honestly, he hadn’t shut up about it since—even when Sans had casually pushed some leaflets for the University and Puzzle Certification Programs his way. So, really, what could he do?

                He shrugged. “Hey, y’know, this is _your_ present. If ya like it, I can’t argue.”

                Papyrus gave a quick nod in agreement, then sent a grin Sans’ way. “You know, you could join, too! It might be better than that boring job you have now!”

                He just barely caught Sans’ grimace before his brother turned it into a grin. “Nah, not my thing. Besides, I couldn’t get in; I suffer from _corporal_ tunnel syndrome.”

                “ _Sans, you promised no puns today!_ ”

                Sans laughed. “Sorry, bro. Sorry. But you know me, I can be a bit of a…” He looked up; Papyrus was glaring at him so hard he was shaking. “I can be a bit forgetful.”

                Papyrus let out a sigh of relief, then looked back up at the recruiting office. Well, this was it. Now or never. Despite his excitement, a nervous knot formed in his stomach. He glanced over at Sans.

                “You…think they’ll let me in?”

                “Of course. They’ll be tripping over themselves to have someone as cool as you join the Royal Guard.”

                Papyrus nodded. “That’s right! And when they accept me, I’ll be even _more_ cool!” So, with confidence, Papyrus strode up the stairs to the door. He took one last glance at Sans, who gave him a thumbs up, then stepped inside.

                He walked up to the receptionist’s desk, holding his head up and throwing one end of his bright red scarf over his shoulder.

                “Hello! I, Papyrus, would like to join the Royal Guard!”

                The receptionist, a wizened fish monster, gave him a smile. “Of course, dear. Just fill out this form.” She handed him a clipboard and pen.

                “I will! I’ll fill it out amazingly!” He quickly took the clipboard and sat in one of the seats. He filled in his information so quickly that his pen was almost smoking; in less than five minutes, he was back at the receptionist’s desk.

                “I have filled out the form!”

                “Well, aren’t you quick? The captain will call you in when she’s ready.”

                “Then I will wait!”

                He returned to his seat, sitting up very straight and still. Minutes ticked by. Periodically, he’d hear a name shouted from behind the door, and a monster would quickly shuffle in. Shortly after, they’d shuffle out; some looked excited, some looked defeated—one gingerbread monster came running out crying after thirty seconds. But Papyrus was patient. He’d get his chance, and he was _sure_ he’d be accepted.

                Finally, after what felt like ages, he heard a harsh voice shout, “ _Garalde!_ ”

                “That’s me!” He nearly stumbled over his feet as he got up, and, with no real recollection of getting from point A to point B, he was in the Captain of the Guard’s office.

                He hugged himself excitedly as he saw her. To think, he was in the same room with _Undyne. CAPTAIN_ _UNDYNE_!!! The _youngest ever_ Captain of the Guard!!!!

                She tossed back her ponytail and scowled at him, narrowing her one eye. “You gonna just stand there or you gonna sit, punk? I haven’t got all day.”

                “Sitting!” Papyrus quickly dropped in the seat across from her. She rolled her eye, then pulled up her feet to rest on her desk as she looked at his paperwork.

                “Papyrus, huh? How old are you?”

                “Seventeen!”

                “You know you gotta be eighteen to be in the Royal Guard, right?”

                “A-actually, you have to be eighteen by the time you’re done with basic training! Which I would be! Because I turn eighteen in two months and basic lasts six!”

                Undyne arched her eyebrow at him. “Well, aren’t you a nerd? Still, kinda like your enthusiasm.” She turned back to look at his paperwork.

                He fidgeted as she flipped through the pages. She seemed to be taking her time; maybe she could only read half as fast with one eye? But the tension was _killing him._ Finally, he blurted, “We went to school together! I mean, you still had two eyes then. B-but even so—”

                She looked up at him, then frowned. “Everyone went to school together. There’s only one school.”

                “I-I mean, I met you at school! You…” His sockets were bright as he sat up. “You stopped the other kids from bullying me!”

                Undyne’s eyebrow furrowed, then she snorted. “You and about eighty other kids. Can’t remember all of ya.” She brought her legs down and held up Papyrus’ papers. “Okay, this stuff? This is _crap_.” She tossed them into the trash can. “It means _nothing._ I need to _see_ that you’ve got what it takes to join the Royal Guard. And you, Papyrus?”

                He leaned forward, sockets wide.

                “You definitely don’t.” She leaned back again, resting her hands behind her head. “Now get out of my office, punk.”

                Papyrus’ shoulders sank. “U-um, is that…is that your way of saying ‘Welcome to the Royal Guard’?”

                Undyne opened her eye. “No?? It means _get out of my office or I’ll throw you out._ ”

                Papyrus didn’t move.

                “I was serious, you know.’

                Papyrus continued not moving. After a moment, Undyne huffed and stood up. She walked over to Papyrus, who was still trying to rationalize that he’d been _rejected_ , and easily picked him up out of the chair. She kicked open her office’s door and literally _threw him_ out hard enough for him to go straight through the window.

                Sans, who’d been waiting outside with a “Congratulations” balloon, jumped as he heard the crash of glass. He hurried over to the window, where he saw Papyrus stuck, head-first, in the little flower garden outside.

                “So, uh…take it you got in?”

                After a bit of effort, Papyrus got his head unstuck. He fell back into the dirt with a sigh. “She said ‘no.’”

                Sans’ sockets widened, and he let go of the balloon to crouch beside his brother. “Aw, it’ll be okay, Pap. I know you must be disappointed, but believe me, this isn’t the end of the world. You’ll prove…” He fell back as Papyrus abruptly sat up, slapping his fist into his palm.

                “That’s it! I need to prove myself!” Papyrus looked up, sockets bright. “A paper doesn’t mean anything; I need to _show_ Undyne that I’m a perfect fit for the Royal Guard!” He hopped to his feet and, with a bright “ _NYEH-HEH-HEH!_ ”, ran off to figure out the perfect way to impress Undyne.

~

                “Okay, but really, Pap. There’s still time for you to apply to the University. Or you could be a puzzle-worker, like Dad was! You used to love—”

                “Sans, _please!_ I am _trying_ to _think!_ And put your mask back on!”

                Sans sighed, but he did indeed pull on the paper plate mask with an angry face. It’d been a week since Papyrus had been rejected by the Royal Guard, and he’d been holed up in his room figuring out the perfect way to impress Undyne with his human-hunting ability.

Obviously, the answer was to capture a human!

                But, unfortunately, it didn’t seem like a human would conveniently fall in the next few days, so he had to improvise. Sans had…well, he hadn’t _volunteered_ , exactly, but he hadn’t said no when Papyrus asked. So here he stood, with Papyrus’ near-perfect human mask as well as a shirt that had “HUMAN” written in big, black letters (just in case the mask wasn’t obvious enough.)

                 Papyrus took Sans’ arm to check his watch. It was nearly ten…Undyne would be coming through Waterfall any moment now, and he could put his plan into action. He moved Sans to his place.

                “Now, brother, remember the plan. When I say ‘Oh, Undyne, fancy seeing you here!’, you come out from behind the rock. Then I will say my line, and you will take exactly three steps forward, springing the trap. Are we clear?”

                “Actually, we’re opaque.”

                “ _Sans, would you_ —” He stopped with a gasp as he heard the clanging of armor. “That’s her! Remember the plan!”

                Papyrus quickly stepped out as Undyne came through the area. “Aha!” he cried.

                Wait. That wasn’t the right line.

                “Huh? Oh, it’s you.” Undyne pulled off her helmet with a frown. “Any reason why you’re standing in my way?”

                “Uh…” What was his line? He wasn’t ready for this kind of pressure. “Undyne, I…uh…there’s a…”

                “ _Fancy seeing you here_ ,” Sans whispered from behind the rock.

                “Oh! Undyne! Fancy seeing you here!” Papyrus said, hands on his hips. _Nailed it._

                She stared at him. “This…is the only way to my house. Look, if you’d just—” She frowned and leaned around Papyrus. “What the hell is _that?_ ”

                Papyrus turned, then feigned a loud gasp of shock as Sans took slow, hesitant steps out from behind the rock. He raised his arms.

                “Ahhhhh. I’m a human. Ahh,” Sans said, wiggling his arms in the air.

                He could have been a little more passionate, honestly. And, now that Papyrus thought about it, cutting holes in the mask might have also been a good idea; then, the attack would have directed at him and Undyne rather than two feet to their left. Well, nevermind. He could work with this.

                He threw an arm out in front of Undyne with another loud gasp. “Look! A human! But never fear, Undyne! I, Papyrus Garalde, have thought to set up a trap which will leave the human completely japed!” He turned back to Sans. “Human! I will fight you!”

                “Ahh, I’m a human.”

                “Human, please turn slightly to your right!”

                “What? Oh, sorry.” Sans turned slightly, then raised his arms again as he took two steps forward. On the third step, though, his foot caught on a tangle of sea grass, and he fell forward, face-planting into the dirt before he could stop himself.

                “What? No! Sans, that wasn’t in the plan!” Papyrus’ hands went to his skull, and he looked up at Undyne. “I-I mean, this was exactly my plan, human! Now, behold your doom!” He pulled a little remote from his pocket, looking up at the cage he’d attached to the roof of the cave. He hit the button on the remote.

                Nothing happened.

                He hit it again.

                Still nothing.

                “I _will_ catch this human! Just…” Papyrus scowled as he walked forward, still hitting the button. “I just…this worked when I tested it!” He slammed his fist on the button a few times.

                Meanwhile, Sans sat up and pushed the mask back, coughing up a bit of dirt. He looked up at Papyrus, and then up more as he heard the creak of straining ropes. His sockets widened as he saw a few strands start to unravel. And when it fell, Papyrus would be right in the way.

                “Papyrus, you gotta…”

                “Sans, what did I say about breaking character?”

                “No, but—” His eye glowed blue as he heard the snap of the rope, and he quickly grabbed Papyrus’ soul and heaved him off to the side. As he hit the cave’s wall with a yelp, the cage came crashing down in a spectacular, certainly-would-have-been-deadly-if-you-were-beneath-it heap.

                Sans panted, still reeling from the fact that Papyrus absolutely could have died. Papyrus groaned, already aching from the manhandling. And Undyne stared at the scene with wide eye.

                Papyrus sat up, rubbing his skull. “Sans, look what you’ve done!” he snapped. “Now we can’t—”

                A loud snort cut him off, and Undyne burst out laughing. Papyrus and Sans both stared as she clutched her stomach, then sank to her knees. She pounded the ground as she continued laughing, tears seeping out from under her eyepatch.

                “OH MY GOD! Tha-that was…that was the FUNNIEST DAMN THING I HAVE EVER SEEN!!”

                Papyrus perked up. “Does that mean I’m in the Royal Guard?”

                “Wha-what?” Undyne looked up with another snort. She shook her head with a huge grin, wiping her eyes. “No, _god_ no. Definitely not.” She laughed for a bit more, then let out a giggly sigh as she finally stood up. “But thanks for the laughs, dude.”

                Still shaking her head and chuckling, she made her way past the wreckage to continue her route. Papyrus’ face fell, and he let out an irritated groan as he fell back to lay on the ground. Sans pulled off the mask, then crawled over to his brother.

                “Pap?”

                “That should have _worked_. It was a foolproof simulation!”

                Sans sighed, then laid down as well, setting his skull beside Papyrus’. “Look, buddo. You gave it your best shot.” He looked over at his brother. “Maybe you could take some time and do something else for a bit.”

                “But I don’t _want_ to do anything else!” Papyrus looked at his brother with wide sockets. “How else will I be able to be popular?”

                 “Bro, there’s more to life than being popular.”

                 “That’s easy for you to say. People _like_ you.” He sighed, looking back up at the crystal-flecked ceiling. “If I can find a way to work with Undyne, maybe I’ll be as cool as she is. And then maybe I can _finally_ have some real friends.”

                Sans sighed. “Look, Pap, I don’t want to discourage you. But sometimes you have to do things that you never really wanted to do in order to get the things you want. And…”

                While Papyrus normally tried to listen whenever Sans got serious, he couldn’t focus right now. He had to find a way to join the Royal Guard. He’d go crazy if he didn’t. After all, Undyne had helped him all those years ago, and if he wanted to be even _remotely_ as tough and cool as she was, this was the only option. So he’d find a way to do it. Even if it took ages, even if it took all the work in the world.

                The thought of being able to work with Undyne to protect the innocent and weak, it filled him with…

                … _really, really wanting to be part of the Royal Guard!_

                “Like, I never thought my life would…Pap? Pap, are you listening?” Sans propped himself up on his arm as Papyrus sat up.

                “I need to go.” He abruptly hopped up to his feet. “I’ll meet you at home, brother!” he called over his shoulder as he ran off.

~

                It took a couple hours of searching, but Papyrus finally found what had to be Undyne’s house. After all, it looked like an angry fish; who else’s house could it have been, Shyren’s?

                Papyrus took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. Nothing. He knocked again. He heard several loud swears on the other side of the door, which then opened, revealing a tired-looking Undyne in pajamas and a matching eyepatch.

                “Who the hell—ah! You again!?”

                “I want to join the Royal Guard!”

                “It’s midnight, no!” She started to close the door, but Papyrus quickly pushed back.

                “Please let me into the Royal Guard!”

                “Why are you asking me right now!?”

                “Because I want to join the Royal Guard!”

                “All that you’re looking at is a Royal _Spear in your face!_ ” Undyne snapped. “Now get out of here! NGAH!!”

                With a shout, she slammed the door shut. Papyrus stumbled back, then set his jaw and stood up straight. “I’m not leaving until you let me join the Royal Guard!” he shouted through the door. He crossed his arms and stood stock-still. She’d break eventually, he was sure of it.

~

                It was around six hours later when the lights in the house finally went on. True to his word, Papyrus was planted in the exact same spot—arms crossed, sockets forward, and ready to confront Undyne about his future in the Royal Guard.

                He did, however, look up as he heard a window open.

                “Oh my god!? You’re still _here?_ ” Undyne cried as she stuck her head out. Papyrus nodded.

                “I told you, I’m not moving until you let me join the Royal Guard!”

                “Don’t you _sleep_?”

                “Will that get me into the Royal Guard?”

                “OH MY GOD.” She shut the window, and Papyrus resumed staring straight ahead. After a few minutes, the front door opened. He perked up as Undyne walked out. She looked him over for a moment, then held her head in her hand with a sigh.

                “Papyrus, right?”

                “Yes, that’s me!”

                “Look…I’m still not sold on you joining the Royal Guard.” She huffed and crossed her arms, falling silent for a moment. Finally, her yellow eye focused on him. “But…I like your passion. So I’ll tell you what: show me your special attack.”

                Papyrus blinked. “My what?”

                Undyne frowned. “Your…special attack? Y’know, your signature move?” At Papyrus’ blank look, she exclaimed, “You don’t have a special attack!?”

                “No, I do! I have a _really cool_ special attack! But…it needs… _updating._ Because I have learned several cool new moves since developing this cool special attack.”

                Undyne snorted. “Okay, y’know what? When you, uh, _update_ that special attack, come back here and show me, and _maybe_ I’ll let you into the Royal Guard.”

                Papyrus’ sockets widened. “Maybe?”

                “ _Maybe._ ”

                “Maybe is almost a yes!” Papyrus stood at attention, giving Undyne a salute. “Don’t worry, Undyne! I won’t let you down! I’ll have the coolest special attack you’ve ever seen!”

~

                It took _ages_ to get Sans to help him with the special attack. He knew that he worked a lot, and he respected that. But he just kept _promising_ like he always did, without doing anything. And things only got worse once he started…well, whatever it was he was doing with the Royal Scientist. He was rarely home now, and when he _was_ home, his nasal cavity was always stuck in notes and textbooks.

                But finally, _finally_ , they got to work. Sans showed Papyrus his own special attack (“Wowie! With a special attack like that, you should be in the Royal Guard!” “Aw, you’re just saying that.” “But really, Sans, why aren’t you? You’re a good fighter, and—” “Hey, ya wanna learn how to make bones float?” “YES!!!”) and he'd instructed Papyrus as to how to use different combinations of attacks to make his special attack...well, special.

                After a few weeks, Papyrus developed an _amazing_ special attack. Even Sans was impressed with it. It was powerful. It was deadly. It was _perfect._ He called Undyne up and asked when he could come over to show her, then spent the rest of the week buzzing in anticipation. Oh, she would be _so impressed_.

                So it hurt _that much more_ when he trudged to Undyne’s house, utterly defeated. Undyne opened her door before he could even reach it, smiling at him.

                “Hey, punk. You got that special attack to show me?” she asked, leaning in the doorway.

                Papyrus looked off to the side and swallowed. “Um…well…not exactly.” He looked up at her, browbone creased. “We…have a dog problem at our house.”

                “…And?”

                “And…and some annoying, little white dog ate my Special Attack!”

                Undyne stared at him. “Is that…a thing?”

                “Yes! It’s very much a thing!” Papyrus curled his hands into fists as he looked up at Undyne with wide sockets. “But! I do still have a _really cool_ normal attack! So…so I can show you that!”

                Undyne looked up at him. After a moment, a small, pointy smile escaped her. “You know what? Sure. Let’s see your cool normal attack.” She walked out and pointed to a dummy in her front yard. “There’s your target. Go nuts.”

                Papyrus nodded, then sucked in a breath and focused. He summoned his magic, and he used ever technique he’d learned to create the longest, most intricate attack he’d ever done. There was blue magic and bones of every size; he managed to hold up a few bones to spell “Please Let Papyrus Into The Royal Guarld—Guard!” Every trick Sans had taught him, he put into the attack, until finally he couldn’t put forth anymore.

                He sagged forward, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, then looked up at Undyne.

                “S-so? Was that…was that worth a maybe?” he panted, giving her a hopeful smile.

                Undyne’s eye was wide, and she crossed her arms. “Uh, that was…honestly? That really was kinda rad...”

                Papyrus stood up straight. “So that’s a yes?”

                “…but you didn’t hit the Dummy once.”

                “Why would I hit the Dummy?”

                “ _Why_ would you—?” Undyne stared up at him. He stared back. After a long stare off, she finally shook her head with a little smile. “You’re kind of a weird guy, Papyrus.” Suddenly, she gave him a big grin. “But y’know what? I like the cut of your jib.”

                Papyrus frowned, then looked down at his clothes. “Well, I’m glad you like my jib, but is that related to the Royal Guard?” He looked up at her. “Do I need a jib to get in?”

                “No, I…I like your enthusiasm.”

                “But what about my jib? Do you want one like it? I could find you one!”

                “ _Oh my god!?”_

“I could even get more jibs! I just have to find out what it is…”

                “ _Forget about the jibs!_ ” Undyne set her hands on her hips. “Listen. You’re not ready for the Royal Guard yet. You’re not even ready for basic. But I’m personally gonna see that you get the training you need. So from now on, you come here every day for Warrior Training.”

                Somehow, Papyrus’ sockets managed to sparkle. “ _Warrior training?!_ With _you?!_ ”

                Undyne nodded. “And you’d better take it seriously, all right, punk?”

                “I will!” Before Undyne could stop it, Papyrus ran up to give her a spine-poppingly strong hug. “ _Thank you,_ Undyne! Thank you _so much!!_ ”

                Undyne pushed him off. “Hey, none of that! Guards don’t hug their Captain!”

                Papyrus blinked, then stood at attention. “Of course, ma’am! No more hugging!”

                Undyne looked him over, then shook her head with a smile. “Aw, go on, get out of here. I need to get ready for my patrol.”

                “Patrolling?! Can I patrol?”

                Undyne thought for a moment. “Uh…y’know what? Sure. Tomorrow, you can go to the Wishing…” A strange look crossed her face. “Actually, no. Don’t go to Waterfall at all.”

                “What? But Waterfall is…”

                “Rule number 1 of Warrior Training, _don’t question your boss!_ ”

                “Yes, boss! I will stay away from Waterfall!”

                 “Just…why don’t you patrol Snowdin, okay?”

                 “Yes, ma’am! I will make sure Snowdin is extra safe!” He grinned brightly at Undyne. “And if I find a human, consider it already caught!”

~

                Undyne had a problem.

                The thing was…Papyrus was actually _really strong._ And his stamina was like nothing she’d ever seen. Add into that his insane amount of passion, and he was the ideal soldier. She’d honestly be worried for whatever poor sap had to fight him, except…

                _He didn’t have a mean bone in his body._

                Seriously, the guy was a bigger softie than _Asgore_ , which was saying something. In all of their sparring, he took care not to hurt her. Or the dummy. Or his bone attacks, if he could help it; on occasion, he’d gather those up and tell them that they’d done a really good job. She couldn’t even imagine what he’d be like in a real battle.

                Well, she _could_ , but it involved him being ripped apart and having his dust scattered every which way.

                And, after getting to know him, that thought made her absolutely sick—and not in the cool, hurling-into-basketball-hoops way, either. So she couldn’t, in good conscience, let him into the Royal Guard. Recently, she’d been using their training time to teach him how to cook, using some bullshit reasoning of how Royal Guards needed to know about nutrition and how to eat in order to regain magic faster. He’d bought it, which was great, but he was still dead-set on actually being a _guard._

                And it was _really freakin’ hard_ to say no to Papyrus when he looked at her with those stupid puppy-dog eyes. ( _How did he even do that without EYES!?!?)_

                So she came up with a compromise.

                “Listen up, punk!” she said the moment he arrived for their training. “I’ve got something important for you.”

                Papyrus perked up. “Are we done punching tomatoes? That’s been fun, but I’d like to learn about noodles, too.”

                “We’re _never_ done punching tomatoes. But that’s not what I’m giving you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little badge. “Starting today, Papyrus, you’re _officially_ a sentry in Snowdin.”

                Papyrus’ sockets went wide, and he stared down at the badge. And he…didn’t move.

                “Papyrus? Did you hear me?”

                He still didn’t move. She waved the badge.

                “You can take the badge.”

                He still didn’t move. Oh, crap, she broke him.

                “Do I need to call a doctor or so— _hurk!_ ” Before she knew it, she was grabbed in a spine-crunching hug.

                “ _ThankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!!!_ ” Papyrus bounced as he let her go and took the badge. He let out a little laugh as he looked it over. “Wowie…I’m an _official sentry_ …” His excitement ebbed after a moment, and he looked up at Undyne. “Um…this is…can I ask something?”

                “It only comes in purple.”

                “No, that’s not it. Could I…put in a request for a second sentry? A co-patroller?”

                “What?” Undyne frowned. Well, she had let the Dogi patrol together. “Sure. Got anyone in mind?”

                “My brother, Sans.”

                “Who?”

                “He was the one who was dressed as the human when I made that very cool trap!”

                Undyne shook her head. “Look, I don’t even know who this guy is. Why should I let him in?”

                “Well…” Papyrus tugged on his scarf awkwardly. “He’s…he’s very strong! But he’s…lazy. And I think being a sentry will be a good influence on him!”

                “ _This isn’t a freakin’ charity!_ Why the hell would I want _lazy people_ to be part of my crew!?”

                Papyrus grimaced. “It’s…it’s not just that,” he admitted. “Something…happened at one of his jobs—he used to work two, but now he only works one. And he won’t tell me what. So he just…lays on the couch and stares at the ceiling. For hours, sometimes! And I’m worried…I’m worried that he misses his second job, so getting another job may help snap him out of it!”

                Undyne’s brow furrowed, and she deliberated for a long while. While being a sentry in Snowdin was just about the safest job you could get, it was still one that was pretty heavily sought out. Was it really fair to give it away to someone just because their brother asked them to? She looked up at Papyrus, who looked at her expectantly.

                She sighed. Well, she _was_ the boss. Aw, screw it, she could do as she wanted.

                “Sure, he can be an unofficial sentry,” she said, waving her hand. Papyrus immediately perked up.

                “Thank you, Undyne! We’ll both make you proud!”

                “I know _you_ will. He’d better, or I’ll deal with him _personally._ ” She set her hands on her hips, watching Papyrus attach the badge to his sweater. “Hey…how about instead of training today, we just…hang out?”

                “ _Hang out_?” Papyrus’ head shot up, and Undyne rolled her eye.

                “Do I have to explain what hanging out means?”

                “No! No, I just…” Papyrus blinked a few times, then let out a bright grin as he pressed his hands to his cheekbones. “I can’t believe that _Undyne_ wants to hang out with _me!_ _No one_ wants to hang out with me!” He froze, then abruptly cleared his throat and played it cool. “I…tend to intimidate most people.”

                Undyne snorted, then leaned against the house and crossed her arms.  Her brow furrowed as she thought for a long moment. “You said we went to school together, Papyrus?”

                “What? Oh, yeah! When you had two eyes!”

                She nodded, looking down. “I remember you. You were a tiny little guy.” She shook her head with a little laugh. “I was about ready to rip off that kid’s head for picking on you. That was where I really decided I wanted to become strong. I wanted to help all the monsters who couldn’t defend themselves, and then…I wanted to find a way to help break the barrier. So I could help in the biggest way I could.” She gave Papyrus a big smile. “Who’d’ve thought a little dork would be a big part in making me who I am now?”

                Suddenly, she lunged forward and grabbed Papyrus’ head. “But enough of this sappy crap! Let’s hang out, nerd! We can break some boulders!” she cried, giving him a noogie.

                “PLEASE DO NOT NOOGIE THE SKELETON!”

                “NO! You know what we should do? _Competitive upchucking!_ Whoever can throw up with the most precision wins!”

                “I AM DEEPLY REGRETTING THIS FRIENDSHIP DECISION.”

               

                 

                   


End file.
